


A Royal Proposal

by lololaufeyson



Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: ALL OF IT, Blowjobs, Eating out, Facial, Fluff, Its a lot, Jotun Loki, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Other, Teasing, bc hes a jotun i hc loki as intersex by default, cultural respect, did i write a 5+1 in 2018? yes, do not think about my science bc its all wrong, how many posts can i reference in one fic, iw whom, loki has no idea how much things cost, proposal, shoutout to douglas adams, very light D/s vibes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 15:20:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15173564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lololaufeyson/pseuds/lololaufeyson
Summary: After Loki and the Asgardians make their way to Earth, Loki gets sick of it quickly, so he decides to find the Grandmaster again. From there, their already intense relationship unfolds into something much more serious.





	A Royal Proposal

Loki never expected it to be glamorous or anything like that… being a refugee, that is, but he certainly didn’t think it would be downright degrading. Corralled into tiny cookie-cutter homes, smushed together along the Norwegian countryside. It was modest, and sure it was better than being entirely homeless, for which he was thankful to the humans, but compared to how he lived on Asgard… as a prince? It was a hovel. Not to mention the fact that ‘Earth’s Mightiest Heroes’ kept an annoyingly close eye on him. All hours of the day monitored by one of them or by the cameras Stark didn’t think he knew about, he couldn’t help but be insulted.

They were very clear upon his arrival that so much as a suspicious peep from him meant getting locked into what Stark assured him was a vault secure enough to hold even him, a prison without any bars or windows, solid metal on all six sides, nothing in there with him. He also kindly specified that any suspicious peeps would include, but not be limited to, thievery, magic, and wielding any sort of weapon more dangerous than a butter knife. Loki had to exercise every ounce of willpower he had to not pitch a fit and murder someone then and there. Just because he tried to take over the planet a few years back didn’t mean they had to be so distrustful. Humans were such a grudgy bunch.

Loki, famous for his infinite patience, of course quickly got sick of it, not to mention he didn’t want to stay there in the first place. Maybe complying with the Avengers told them he was afraid of what they were capable of, which he didn’t want them to think, but he was… a little. He wasn’t exactly in the best place emotionally or physically, and he was beaten the last time he fought them, when they were much less powerful and coordinated than now. But he and Thor were finally in each other’s good graces and he didn’t care enough to sully that so quickly by leaving immediately. After all Thor’s trust could come in handy one day, and he’d rather not cash that in on some pointless fight.

What he wanted, more than anything at the moment, was to return to Sakaar, assuming he was welcome after he helped them escape. It wasn’t like he was actually imprisoned… yet, but he was being suffocated. Was it really so bad if he wanted to leave? 

“Brother, we are welcomed guests on Earth, representatives of our people. Be grateful of what you’re given, and they will grow to trust you in time.” Thor told him when he mistakenly shared with him that he found his situation so distasteful. Like he gave a rat’s ass about the humans trusting him.

So, in the interest of appeasing Thor, he stayed, for as long as he could bear, which was barely a few weeks. It felt like a few years given that he couldn’t do anything he wanted to. He got yelled at for conjuring up money, of all things. What a stupid thing to get upset over. It was better than stealing, wasn’t it? “It’s the same thing. It’s just as bad.” He really hated the captain.

What Loki realized, though, was that he happened to be very near two separate Sakaarian vessels, one of which designed for nothing else other than cruising around its home planet. Loki knew with a little tinkering that he could manage a sort of guidance system, an autopilot, to take him there, the only drawback was that it would take time.

He rigged up a clever, if luck-based system, where he would leave the little Asgardian village and make to the empty fields a ways away, clone himself, have his clone walk back to his little house under the guise of him just having a nice walk. Then he snuck to the ships, invisible, and tinkered. Some days it didn’t work, because one of the Avengers was instructed to follow his every move, and while the purpose of invisibility is being invisible, the magic it took to turn into it was quite obvious.

It was difficult, having to be dead silent and work on a metal ship. Factor in the fact that it had been literally centuries since he worked with anything engineering-wise, and it took a lot of patience. Almost more than he had, and he was nearly caught a few times because of his mouth, swearing a muttering when something wasn’t cooperating with him. But after a couple weeks, he was sure he had it.

One night soon, very late, he staged something elaborate, for the sake of frustrating and confusing his ‘captors-not-captors’. He, physically, got into the ship while his clone laid fake sleeping. He had another clone, not of himself, but of a burly man in a costume he composited from the Avengers’ ridiculous outfits, break into his house, grab him by the throat and haul him out, struggling for dear life. Of course, he had the two illusions dissipate near immediately after they were out of camera shot, but nonetheless he thought it was a convincing performance. He could just picture the headlines: “Loki, Agent of Chaos, Kidnapped!”, “Even Gods Aren’t Safe”, “Who is This Masked Criminal?”. A pity he wouldn’t be around to watch them scramble, wondering what the kidnapper was planning with an ancient and powerful god, but he had better places to be. Well… better place. They probably wouldn’t fall for it when they noticed the Commodore missing, but it was a nice parting thought as he started the thankfully quiet engine and took off.

\----------

It was a long, boring, and restless trip, and he couldn’t tell time in space. There was really no way of knowing exactly how long it took to get to Sakaar, but estimating by the number of sleeps he had, it was several weeks. The most fun part, though, wasn’t spending all that time bored out of his mind doing nothing but twiddling his thumbs, no, it was finally reaching Sakaar only to find that the Grandmaster hadn’t been there in months.

Loki was attacked when he landed, the people there likely assuming because it was the Grandmaster’s ship and that the man himself was aboard or at least an ally. Several bodies and a number of shouted lies later, he’d convinced them that he’d only stolen the ship and that he wasn’t aligned with him in any way. Somehow that wasn’t even the worst way he’d been welcomed to a planet.

It took more time still to track down likely the only person on the planet left who didn’t want to kill the Grandmaster, but truly it was a moment of pride for him. Even after being out of practice for so long, he found that he was still deserving of his title Silver Tongue.

He had yet another heading, but this time an ETA, and the planet wasn’t nearly as far away from Sakaar as Sakaar was from Earth, thank fuck. Surely as he was told, he’d arrived at Kaffir five “days” later. From there, it was a cakewalk. A hazy, enthusiastic (keen?) cakewalk, where he barely noticed anything around him, dead set on finding the Grandmaster, eager to ignore everything else, and it turns out that he hadn’t changed his lifestyle in the slightest: a massive penthouse high-rise, expensive, opulent, and that much Loki’d only gleaned from his walk through the lobby and up the elevator.

By the time Loki had worked up the courage to knock, the door had swung open. It felt silly, to be standing there, words trapped in his throat, but whatever he’d planned to say, he forgot the moment their eyes met. He was paralyzed by those warm brown eyes. For a while they just stood there, frozen, staring like they weren’t quite sure if this was really happening, until the Grandmaster finally spoke.

“Loki?” It was soft, almost disbelieving.

“Loki,” he answered.

There was a moment of hesitation, then, before the Grandmaster took a step forward and wrapped Loki up into a tight embrace, Wait, Loki.” He pushed them apart. “Loki, you and your ‘adopted’ brother, and scrapper 142, and, and my champion made off with my favorite vessel and left my place in shambles.”

“I noticed… I was just on Sakaar. I didn’t realize that our escape would cause such trouble. What happened?”

“What happened to you?” His tone was accusatory and came out a bit too hostile than what he intended. He’d missed Loki, yes, very much, but he was also hurt. He felt betrayed. Truth is, he and Loki grew quite close over their few weeks together, and he trusted him- too much, apparently.

It had to have been terrible after they escaped. “I’m sorry. We had to leave, Asgard, it, Hela, I...” for once in his life, Loki found himself scrambling for the right words, and he felt horrible having made the Grandmaster upset. “I didn’t want to, but my home, and Thor said that- and the people, and, and, and-”

The Grandmaster placed a finger on Loki’s lips. “Shh. Come in.”

They got comfortable in the living room, sat on the sofa opposite each other, and got to talking. It took a while for the both to fully explain each of their stories, from Loki’s home being destroyed to the Grandmaster’s people finally revolting. It turned out a lot happened to the both of them, but nothing either couldn’t handle.

“Sure, I could’ve just killed everyone and got some new ones, but… I was getting tired of the place anyway. I’d been there for a few millennia, maybe 10 thousand years, who can remember, doing the same old stuff every day. I decided not to waste my time, or all those people, and disappear. Bebopped around for a while, taking in the options, and found that I rather like this planet. Fun night life.”

“I wanted to come back the moment we were done, but there were just so many little things that held me on Earth. As the Prince, Thor and I had to organize our people a home, settle ourselves in, and then I was basically under watch every moment of the day. I really hate humans.” Loki sighed. “I missed you,” he tucked his feet underneath the Grandmaster, “En.”

The Grandmaster smiled sheepishly. “Look at us, a couple of lonely homeless hedonists.” He sat up and leant forward. “However will we pass the time?”

\----------

Nearly two years had passed since they got back together, and Loki loved every minute of it, barely a thought to Earth since he left. Except for that one time he and Grandmaster teleported to a phone store for about three minutes to get the Grandmaster a phone, because he was getting pretty petulant about not knowing why Loki was constantly on his.

It turned out, he really liked this invention, and it was simple enough to use. This texting thing, he really liked. Talking instantly to people all over the galaxy? Incredible. The first thing he did, then, was ask Loki if he knew Scrapper 142’s number, or Topaz’s, or Sparkles’, and Loki told him that her name was Valkyrie, actually, and yes, he did.

Loki did, though, pass on giving him Thor’s number, if only to be a shit and keep the mystery of where he went going strong.

Loki briefly wondered if giving him her number was a good idea, because he didn’t particularly feel like getting his ass kicked, but thought that, hey, if she lived with him for so long on Sakaar, she could probably handle deciding whether or not to block him.

Similarly, Loki and Peter, the Spider Man, had struck up quite the friendship. It was cute, he thought, the way Peter had introduced himself back on earth.

“Hello mister Loki- miss Loki- mx- your highness!” Peter stuttered and blushed, clearly unsure how to refer to a god. Loki grinned at the little guy. Maybe it was because Peter’s first reaction to Loki wasn’t violence or distrust, or maybe it was because he was still a kid, and he was good with kids, but he liked Peter. It was also probably a little bit of the ego-stroking ‘highness’. About damn time someone recognized him as royalty instead of some sort of chaotic bog witch.

-u heard abt this royal wedding shit

Loki’s phone chimed, and it was from Peter.

-ur gonna have to b more specific

-british royal wedding here on earth, long shot but

-no, tell me

-so these imperialists, responsible for ‘colonization’ of like 90% of the planet, and are still around for some reason, spent 34m$ of taxpayers money on this bullshit looking as milquetoast wedding, can you believe (6 image attachments)

-of course, god whats w all the white

-well white actually is traditional in most of western earth? i think? im still in high school, I also think theres some element of christian purity

-gross, boring, we wear, well, formal armor i suppose, so i guess silver and gold mostly? And theres usually blood

-thats pretty cool, but why

-sacrifice to fertility gods, the aesthetic, drama, its an old tradition

-sometimes we throw rice

-why rice

-idk. so wyd im boredt

-oh im on the couch ‘watching’ some show w gm n hes very slowly crawling on top of me, i think he wants to cuddle

-aww

-how are things going w ur transition

-great!!! i just passed 6 months!!! im passing already babey

-congratulations little one! ill have to send you a gift

-ngl im jealous you can just shapeshift into whatever you want

-it is wonderful, and i hope you soon feel comfortable in your body

-me too… mr loki can i ask you a question?

-of course

-why don’t u want anyone to know where u are or what ur doing, bc thor is about ready to drive mr stark up a wall, that is if he doesnt drive himself up one first

-i think you answered ur own question

-?

-half just being mean, half i don’t want anyone on earth talking to me, you obv excluded, have you done your schoolwork? wait what time is it over there anyway, and what day, its like mid-summer here

-its january 14th and its tuesday and also its 1am

-Go To Bed, Oh My God

\---------- 

“Who are you texting?” The Grandmaster mumbled against Loki’s stomach.

“The Spider Man.”

“Is he a man-sized spider?... Or many spiders in the shape of a man? ...Or…”

“He is a man with characteristics of a spider. Well, a boy really, he is only 17.”

“Does he have ten legs?”

“No, God, what? He can climb up walls and swings on webs. Spiders have eight legs.”

“In what universe do spiders have eight legs?” He looked up at Loki, squinting.

“Wh- this one, you ass.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” Loki said incredulously.

He seemed to think on this for a moment, his chin digging into Loki’s midriff, then changed the subject. “What are you talking about?”

“A wedding, blood, and passing, oh and I need to get him a gift. I’m thinking top surgery, but, not from myself of course, a real doctor. How much does that even cost? Oh, it has been a while, maybe he already got it, hm.” He bit his lip. “Oh well, he can use the money for college, or… boats, or whatever humans spend money on.” Loki conjured a stack of cash, perfectly copied from the money he pickpocketed from Stark on Earth. “Is fifty thousand enough?”

The Grandmaster made the ‘I don’t know’ sound and shrugged.

“I’ll make it sixty. Can you pop this over to Peter’s bedroom?” He tucked the money into a manila envelope signed with his name, also conjured, and handed it off to the Grandmaster.

“I don’t know who or where that is.” He took it anyway.

He sighed. “Come here.” Loki pulled him up closer and pressed their foreheads together. He didn’t really need to, per se, he could’ve just had him press his hand to his forehead, but he liked the intimacy of it. And he wanted to kiss him, which he did, as the Grandmaster found the little piece of information he needed.

“Thanks babe.” Loki smiled and cupped his face.

“Who-”

“Peter, the Spider Man, he’s from Earth. In my brief time there, we became good friends, much to Stark’s dismay.”

“The rich one, with the- the- the metal guy?”

“Yes.”

“What interesting names your friends have. Lord of Thunder who controls lightning, Spider Man, the Hulk of course, Hawk Eyes, Metal Guy, the, uh, other spider one but she’s a woman but has… no spider powers, the Captain, the other bird man, the fast metal man, oh the witch and the Strange Wizard, and the Vision.”

Loki laughed wholeheartedly. “Close enough, but they aren’t my friends. The opposite really. Banner, the Hulk, can bear to be around me, and my brother is… my brother, and Peter is just an outlier. Everyone else hates my guts, but it comes with the job description.” He joked.

“So, the Spider Boy, Peter, is, is, what, having a passing marriage party?”

Loki put his hand over the Grandmaster’s mouth and shook his head. “No.” He said simply. “Ju- oh gross! Did you lick my hand?” He pulled it away and reached down to wipe his palm onto the carpet.

“I can lick something else if you like.” The Grandmaster waggled his eyebrows.

\----------

The Grandmaster would be lying if it hadn’t crossed his mind, quite a few times, and marriage wasn’t a concept he was unfamiliar with. The thing was, he knew they were very specific to individual cultures and basically the only thing that they all had in common was someone pledging yourself to another person. Now normally he’d be the sort to put out a vibe of general sluttery, but that was 50 percent boredom, 28 percent alcohol, 20 percent loneliness, and 2 percent satin. There was just something very horny about satin, which happened to be most of his closet. But he was loyal to Loki, and Loki alone for several years now and, honestly, he didn’t care to be with anyone else. It made perfect sense for him to take the next step and ask Loki if he felt the same way.

He picked up his phone and texted the one person he just happened to know grew up in the same place as Loki.

-hey hi hi, remember me, it’s the grandmaster, yknow from sakaar, anyway how you been?

-uh, wow. hi, yeah i remember you, how’d you get my number?

-loki, he also told me your name is valkyrie?

-it is, but you can still call me scrapper if you want idc

“Loki, what’s i-d-c?”

“It’s an acronym. It stands for I don’t care.” He called from the other room.

-val can i ask a few questions?

-shoot

-i need you to tell me everything you know about asgardian weddings

-why lmao

“Loki what does l-m-a-o mean?”

“Laughing my ass off.”

-just curious

-um okay i guess. royalty or common folk?

-royalty

-sometimes there’s a betrothal, im talking from birth they already have the child set up, but its not common. but as a general rule of thumb theres usually at least a year of money and asset talk and then arrangements, a lot of supposititious dudes. wedddings are always on fridays, last a few days, theres usually a special alcohol made for the ceremony and then never again, the engaged are kept apart for like a week before the ceremony to, like, wash away their previous lives of singleness, theres usually a goat sacrifice. they’ll dip twigs in the blood and when it dries, scatter them over the happy couple as a symbol of fertility or some shit, oh and theres this thing where the person who performs the ceremony wraps the couple’s hands together, is that enough?

-more about the ceremony itself?

-well from my marriage i walked down an aisle with my mother to meet my soon to be wife at the altar where Frigga, our goddess of fertility, performed rites, we did vows, then we did the sacrifice, and kissed and we were married

-and the proposal?

-are you going to marry an asgardian or something? i never pictured you as the monogamy type…

-just doing some research and youre the only asgardian i know

-you said loki gave you my number

-only Other one then

-okay idk just ask them? its pretty simple. offer something to them tho like jewelry, it used to be about proving you could provide, but it’s mostly ceremonial now. are you done?

“Loki what does i-d-k mean?”

“I don’t know.”

“Can you find out?”

“No, babe, it…” He laughed. “I-d-k stands for ‘I don’t know’.”

“Oh… okay thanks.”

-yes, luv u, catch up with ya soon

-later

\----------

Over on Earth Valkyrie playfully punched an extremely drunk Thor. They were sat next to each other drinking Stark out of house and home, but that was his fault for saying ‘feel free’ when asked if they could drink.

“Yo, Loki and the Grandmaster are totally getting hitched.”

He will not recall this in the slightest.

\----------

The Grandmaster had to make it special, the question. It didn’t feel right to just up and ask in the middle of nowhere. It was an important question, it deserved to be asked during a special occasion. So, one evening, he decided to take Loki out to a nice dinner. He himself didn’t know how to cook diddly squat, so it was best left to the professionals, and the quickest way into someone’s heart was through their stomach. Definitely cliché, but it was true.

He did a little research and picked the most expensive and well-reviewed place literally on the entire planet and made sure the both of them were dressed to the nines before surprising Loki with the reservation. He was practically gleeful when he saw where they popped over to. A proper date in a lovely, lovely place.

Loki had been to several alien eateries for an assortment of reasons, and a lot of the higher end ones had a lot in common: atmospheric music, dim lighting, warm and inviting colors and décor, and this one was no different. Well, it was still unique of course. There was virtually no possibility that two of the same place would ever pop up on separate planets; t’s just statistics. Excluding interplanetary chains, of course, but those types aren’t high end. Another thing most high-end places had in common was food with an acquired taste.

Truth be told, he was a bit nervous to try the food. There wasn’t much he didn’t like and there was even less he wasn’t willing to try, but every now and again he found something truly repulsive and there was no possible way to tell before he put it in his mouth. At least he wasn’t one of those assholes who turned their nose up at something if they didn’t find it appealing to the eye. That was just ridiculous, and, frankly, disrespectful to whomever made it. Cooking was hard and making first-class dishes wasn’t a walk in the park - he would know. Loki didn’t know how to cook a damn thing. He almost burned down the kitchen once trying to make rice, it was a whole thing. At least no one saw, because he immediately hid any evidence that a disaster nearly took place and cleaned it while no one was looking.

They were seated by a window overlooking the water, a picturesque lake with brightly colored ‘trees’ of some sort, silhouettes of four-winged birds flying against the setting suns. It was very lush for such a dense metropolis. These people must have really cared for their environment, a lovely change from the vast majority of the highly populated places he had been, which usually cared more about money than, you know, breathing. If he squinted, he thought he could see massive fish-like creatures, perhaps sea-serpents of some sort breaching out above the purple waves.

“I can see why you chose the place.” Loki smiled.

“The restaurant or the planet?”

“Both, I imagine.”

“Well the view is exquisite,” the Grandmaster said, not taking his eyes off Loki.

“Shut up.” He covered his mouth and cheek, hiding a bashful smirk.

They looked so out of place amongst the strangely formed and dressed natives and they turned quite a few heads, but took the attention in stride as well as two egomaniacs could. As far as their own people went, they’d probably stick out amongst them, too. There was only so much glitter and asymmetry you could wear before you looked like you were going to a gaudy blast from the past party, but they did wear it well. Confidence probably had something to do with it… and tailoring… and definitely the loss of giving two shakes of a rat’s ass what people thought.

The person who took their order was a lovely individual neither were too keen on assigning a gender to, but their name was Paik. It fit. Ever the adventurous one, the Grandmaster simply asked for them to surprise him, and while Loki wouldn’t think of himself as that brave, he didn’t have much of a choice considering he couldn’t understand a single word written on the pages, so he asked for the same.

With their drinks back and their orders taken, only about fifteen minutes had passed, even if it felt like fifteen hours. The Grandmaster wasn’t exactly patient under normal circumstances, so it was taking a lot to wait even this long with the question weighing on his chest. Certainly, he didn’t want to blow his verbal load in the first few minutes of what would likely in the future be considered one of the most important dinners of both their lives, but ultimately, he decided that it would be more romantic if he asked while Loki was enjoying himself and not after he gets back a plate of food he finds disgusting.

Not three seconds after that thought did he open his mouth. “Lokes, sweetness… I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“What’s up?” He put down his glass. His first sip was admittedly strange, even for an opaque violet-colored beverage, but by no means was it bad. It had a zippy but smooth flavor and it almost reminded him of that one drink he had when he was on Tolearida a few hundred years ago to stage a coup so he could find chocolate more easily and cheaply. Maybe it wasn’t the best decision he ever made, considering he started a civil war that ended up having casualties with five digits… yet somehow not the deadliest decision he had ever made, and it was worth it. Chocolate was quite the rarity on Asgard and his inner child nearly exploded with joy when, for some mysterious-to-everyone-but-him reason, the price of importing it dropped nearly in half.

“Loki Laufeyson?” A gruff voice interrupted them, and they turned to see a very large, burly, grey-skinned man with chunks of off-colored metal jutting out of him here and there.

“Oh fuck!” Loki ducked just in time for a hulking fist to swipe right where his skull would’ve been.

“I’ll kill you!” He shouted and grabbed for Loki.

Loki vaulted over the table and threw a chair at him, splintering it into a hundred pieces against his chest, entirely unaffected. Loki scoffed, of course. Patrons scrambled to get out of the place, away from the very large, very angry alien.

“Slimy little weasel!”

Loki wasn’t exactly known for being diplomatic or even barely respectful, but honestly, he had no idea who this person was or why he was hellbent on killing him. It wasn’t surprising, considering the amount of absolute selfish nonsense he had done at the expense of others, but he usually remembered the people whose lives he ruined, if only to tell himself that keeping them in his thoughts somehow made it okay. Also, funnily enough, this was only the third time he had been jumped in the middle of a dinner date at a five-star restaurant on an alien planet and just the second time it was with someone three times his size. The other one was smaller than him but packed one hell of a punch. Last time he ever judges someone based on size.

The Grandmaster silently stood off to the side and picked at his gold painted nail, giving Loki his space. One thing he’d learned was that Loki really hated it when he butted into his fights to just quickly kill whatever had made the fuss, something about him needing to fight his own battles, that he was capable of handling himself, which he could respect. It didn’t mean it was fun to see him get his ass kicked, though.

There was no chance the Grandmaster was going to ask now; sweaty post-fight and bleeding wasn’t very romantic… unless you were into that, that is. But he wanted a much gentler vibe, something soft the two of them could look back at fondly. The last few patrons screaming and running for their lives managed to shove past each other and out into the street. What people worked themselves up over… jeez, it was just a big muscly guy in sickeningly yellow clothes.

He watched as the two of them destroyed the restaurant, breaking tables and smashing through walls, barreling into one another, fists and magic. By the looks of it, Loki had it handled, even if the big guy got a few good swings in, either his fist at Loki or literally swinging Loki at something. He caught something small and fried as a table was flung into the wall next to him and popped it into his mouth. Sucked they wouldn’t get his food. He was hungry. Oh, and there went his second favorite robe, some dark colored… juice? Sauce? Something splattered all over it. He sighed.

With a horrific, wet, squelching sound, dark blue blood splattered all over the wall and himself, his face included. The Grandmaster sighed, again, and wiped what he could off with the edge of his sleeve. If it wasn’t ruined before, it certainly was now.

Loki panted, just as covered in various liquids in various colors, as the newly headless body finally dropped to the ground with a thud. Shame. He seemed a nice fellow before he threw that punch.

“Friend of yours?”

“Not anymore.” Loki cleaned himself off in an instant with the flick of his wrist, but the same couldn’t be said about his clothes. A stain was a stain by any other name. “Sorry our night’s ruined…” He did the same for the Grandmaster. He could’ve done it himself, but whatever. “And your robe. What did you want to ask me anyway?”

“I… forgot,” he lied. There were certainly better moments to ask the question, moments where the two of them weren’t standing in the middle of a shit-housed restaurant caked in this and that.

“Take out?”

“Take out.”

\----------

The next time wasn’t even planned. They’d had a long day and decided to spend an evening well-deservedly doing nothing, sprawled out on the couch, watching this planet’s version of Netflix, some terrible show about middle-class women and cheating husbands, and all sorts of convoluted nonsense. Honestly, the more Loki learned about the strict gender binary and rigid rules on sexuality so many cultures had, the more exasperated he grew with the entire idea of labels. Exhausting. It would be a lie, though, if he said it wasn’t entertaining. Though probably in a much different way than the writers intended.

The pair of them, more or less spooning but at an odd angle, soaked in the warmth rolling off their fireplace. The Grandmaster turned the air conditioning onto a criminally low temperature to justify using it, which Loki scoffed at before, but now… it was quite nice. All he had to do was pretend it wasn’t a hundred degrees outside, and it was like they were in a cabin in some secluded winter wonderland, only with more Wi-Fi.

Surrounding them on the more than spacious sofa was an array of salty and sweet snacks, very carefully balanced in the folds of the blanket they were wrapped in, their drinks set safely on the coffee table just barely within reach.

They laughed and negged at the TV, getting far too into the plot than they thought they would.

“Jailin needs to find a better salon because that hair is just… it’s so sad.” Loki popped a candy into his mouth.

“Herka’s over here just ragging on Jailin’s clothes too, but has she looked in a mirror lately? She looks like- like- like if Rob Zombie fucked an elf and raised it in a, uh, cave.”

“That makes no sense, but simultaneously… I get it.”

“No!” They shouted at the same time, as once again Vix forgave her husband for cheating on her with her best friend. This, of course, had to mark the end of the episode, then followed it were several very dramatic scenes with them yelling and fighting.

“NO!!” They shouted again as the credits rolling revealed that it was the last episode available. How will they ever find out what happens to everyone? Being patient? Never going to happen.

Loki threw a fist full of popped corn at the screen. “Come on, I’m not going to be able to think about anything else for a week. My brain is clogged up with this incredible nonsense.”

He scrolled through the top picks for movies, clearly related to what they just watched; it was all reality romance and drama. At least he could understand the language in this part of the planet, so he could read the titles and descriptions.

“Oh, we have to watch that one!” The Grandmaster exclaimed.

“Which one?”

“With the- the skyline, and the moons.”

“Coastline Sunshine. This movie follows the story of-” Loki continued to read off the description needlessly as he was going to click on it anyway.

“I’m not tired, are you?” Loki turned his head to look at the Grandmaster.

“Nah, let’s keep it rolling.” He gave him a peck on the nose, leaving the tiniest trace of blue glitter, but he didn’t say anything. It was too cute.

About an hour passed and the comments had slowed to a stop for a while now, perhaps the both of them genuinely not into the movie. It wasn’t bad, actually.

The Grandmaster stroked Loki’s hair gently and listened to his soft, even breathing. Moments like this were underrated in his opinion: moments of peace, just comfortable in each other’s presence, no peacocking, no egos, or judgmental eyes. Just in comfy clothes, lounging, eating junk food, messy and happy. Strange how rare it was for him to experience these moments. It occurred to him that he wanted more of them, and the time felt right. A down moment in the movie, as comfortable as can be, firelight, cuddling.

The Grandmaster turned himself to see Loki’s face and opened his mouth to ask, but closed it just as quickly. Loki was fast asleep. He smiled. He couldn’t bear to wake him up, he looked too peaceful, and it was quite late after all.

He paused the movie and exited full screen. “Jeez, almost three?” He whispered. Definitely not waking Loki up. He should go to sleep, too.

\----------

As any rich person would, they found themselves out shopping, walking store to store in a gigantic mall. They were hauling maybe twenty bags each, filled with mostly clothes, but also jewelry, random baubles, shoes, makeup, a remote-control drone, and other things. Loki could whisk them off to his pocket dimension, make it worlds easier than carrying so many heavy bags, but he really liked to show off, so why waste such a perfect opportunity to do so?

“It’s so stupid we have to get it,” Loki had said about the drone. It could carry nearly twenty pounds, which was really nothing when you can bench sixty thousand pounds like Loki, but it had a lot of potential for fucking with people. Swooping down and swiping things from in front of them, or bullying the local fauna, teasing, holding things just beyond reach, annoying the Grandmaster when he was doing something. The salesperson also mentioned how quiet it was, which sealed the deal for Loki. No one and nothing would be safe from the tiny claws on his new rainbow-colored toy. The first thing he was going to do with it, though, was Crime. “I’m naming him Gaybot.”

“W- how can a robot be gay?”

“Because I decided and also because the rainbow is often a symbol of same-sex love.”

“Aww, I love our tiny gay son.”

They rounded a corner and walked into what was clearly a designer store and shucked off their bags near a modern looking sofa next to the dressing rooms. Honestly, thank goodness they didn’t have to give a shit about the prices because knowing exactly how much they were spending was just up in their air. The numbers seemed kind of big, four to five digits and a decimal, but that didn’t have to mean anything. Fifty thousand sephs on Keltia was about twelve earth dollars, so whether or not nine thousand eight hundred and twenty-five… units… or whatever they called their currency here, was a lot, he had no idea. Gods, he was such a tourist.

“Look at this, it’s so hideous I love it.” The Grandmaster held up an atrociously colored thing with a spiky collar that could only very loosely be described as a shirt.

“That looks like it should be bowling alley carpet.”

“What’s bowling?”

“It’s, okay, it’s when you underhand a urethane ball at a grouping of ten wooden pins.”

“Why… not call it balling if bowls have nothing to do with it?”

“I don’t have a clue, but their cornerstone is being tacky.”

“Oh, yes, that describes this perfectly.”

They collected numerous articles of clothing and piled them up next to the dressing rooms to try on after their heaps were large enough. Loki more so, because this store seemed to cater to his specific clothing mood. By the time they finally decided to start trying things on, Loki had amassed a stack of mostly green, black, yellow, and fruit-patterned clothes, and the Grandmaster’s pile looked like if toddler Lisa Frank was set loose with the phrase ‘anything you want’ in the back of her mind.

Loki looked in disbelief at the Grandmaster with a hint of a smirk.

“I’m branching out.” He offered to the unasked question. “Can I have more than one aesthetic, mister fruit goth?”

“I am not a f-” Loki looked at his selection. “actually that’s…” He blinked. “That’s a pretty good way to describe it.”

“And I love you, so much, you really know how to dress yourself.”

“Aww, thank you.”

Over the course of the next hour or so, they took turns trying on their selections, showing off to one another for opinions, some stunning looks, some misses, and a lot of so-so ones. It took a particularly massive amount of self-control from the Grandmaster to not put in the yes pile every gaudy, hideous article of clothing he wouldn’t possibly ever have a time or place to wear. Not that he needed to, per se, but there was a finite amount of closet space in the universe and there were much better things to put in it. Things that wouldn’t make innocent people’s eyes bleed.

It was like a mini fashion show with two of the most opposite-dressing idiots in the universe, complete with posing, walks, playing designer fashion judge, a magically conjured score card reading only ten and zero, and making a certain amount of hell for the poor employee who’d end up having to clean up after them considering the sheer volume of clothes they’d strewn about. The only thing missing was bass heavy runway music. The music playing over the speakers in the store was more comparable to… Wagner, maybe?

It was Loki’s turn to choose an outfit to show off to the Grandmaster when one of the articles just jumped out at him. How he didn’t notice the connection as he picked it out was probably because he was more focused on color then style, but it both infuriated him and made him want to laugh. He gasped overdramatically and chuckled in a way that alluded to something excellent coming.

“What? Lemme see!!”

“Hold on.” Loki put it on with a nicely matching pair of pants and only magically tweaked a teensy bit of it to make the joke clearer. Suddenly, he popped out from behind the door and play-shouted, “Lord! Of! Thunder!!!” To complete his impression of his brother, he did in fact change his hair to a straw blonde and made tiny blue sparks zap around his fingertips, all in front of the Grandmaster of course.

The Grandmaster clapped his hands together and threw his head back in laughter. The ensemble could’ve been more perfect. Somehow, lightyears away on some planet Thor had probably never heard of in some random boutique store, there was a top that looked so just like exactly what he wore when he first met him. The stitching, the material, the color? It was so oddly similar that that in of itself would’ve been funny enough, but Loki’s flair for performance made it that much better. The tacky recreation of the very specific way he walked too, gods Loki really knew his brother. He watched beyond amused as Loki expertly copped Thor’s unique disposition and marched around him, flexing, saying absolute nonsense that just really fit.

Oh, he was utterly smitten, so lovestruck by the god putting on this show, that he once again was reminded of several reasons why he wanted to ask Loki to marry him, most clearly of which was how he made him laugh. Was there anything like making the person you love laugh and vice versa? He loved that every moment he spent with Loki was as electrifying as the last, no matter what they were doing be it as mundane as watching TV together or making a silly impression. He couldn’t imagine not making Loki his husband, or wife, or spouse, however he identified as when, or if at this rate, the time came.

As Loki wrapped up his quick little spoof, he let himself fall back into his dark-haired self and smiled at the Grandmaster, who he could see had a tear rolling down his cheek. Gods, was he really that funny?

The Grandmaster opened his mouth, “Loki will-”, but as soon as he started, yet again he was interrupted, this time by Loki’s phone singing. It played an unfamiliar tune for several seconds before Loki managed to fish it out of his pants pocket on the floor of the changing room.

“One sec, babe,” Loki said to the Grandmaster and answered it. “Yes, Peter, what is it?”

He couldn’t hear what Peter said, just a little mumbling, but waited patiently.

“Oh no…,” Loki said softly. “Yes, of course I can.”

Loki tilted the phone away from his mouth and shook his head apologetically at the Grandmaster. “I have to take this, he’s having a real rough go of things and something happened today, and he has no one else to talk to and-”

“It’s okay.” He smiled reassuringly, because it really was. “Where’s your yes pile? I’ll check out while you talk.”

Loki smiled gratefully and sat himself down on the sofa, but not before quickly changing first. As much as he loved his brother, he didn’t feel the need to look just like him for any longer than he needed to.

Twenty minutes later with not one, two, or even three, but seven more bags, the Grandmaster whisked them away to a pocket dimension, far too many to carry now, and sat with Loki in silent support. He was no stranger to hard times. You live as long as he has and it’s more or less impossible to not have, and he knew humans lived laughably short lives compared to him and Loki, so he knew well that it was important to Peter to have someone to reach out to. It was interesting that it was a several-millennia-old Norse god, but, hey, everybody needs someone.

He listened to the conversation one-sidedly, passing the time by trying to decipher what was happening with just half the conversation. It was probably much less than half though conserving the gaps between when Loki spoke, which made sense if Peter was venting. He didn’t get very far with ‘mhm’s, ‘right’s, and ‘I’m sorry’s, but there were a few bits where Loki offered his advice and it seemed like Peter was having family troubles. Not to overstep his bounds, but Loki was definitely a good person to talk to about those from what he’d been told.

Another twenty minutes passed before Loki mouthed to the Grandmaster ‘Let’s go home. Sorry.’ And rather than walk, he teleported them right to the foyer, so Loki could find himself some proper privacy off somewhere in the suite.

It sucked, yeah, having botched now three proposals, but they had time, and the Grandmaster wanted it to be perfect. He gave Loki his privacy and made way to their bedroom and started putting their haul away. Somehow being as old as he was, he still found that putting clothes away was soothing. Probably something to do with the organization, the order, the pattern.

It was a few hours -- yes, hours, before Loki emerged from the spare room to find the Grandmaster propped up on a stool next to the kitchen island skimming through a magazine and munching on something.

“I am so sorry,” Loki sighed and slumped down into the stood opposite him.

“About what?”

“I sort of ruined the day of course. Or at the very least cut it short.”

“You shouldn’t be sorry for being kind.” The Grandmaster set the magazine down and put his hand over Loki’s, stroking it gently with his thumb. “I’m glad you’re his friend. Is he alright now? Or at least better?”

“I should think so. Forgive me, but I won’t give specifics. He asked me to promise not to tell, but… to be honest, I only miss Earth rarely and when I do it’s because of the boy. At least he has Stark, as annoying as he is, should something come up that I’m not there to help with.” Loki swiped a few of the salted morsels out of the Grandmaster’s bowl. “It’s funny that he trusts me, considering none of the other heroes do.”

“Naïve?” He offered.

“I think it’s hope. He believes that people are mostly good, because he has to. What world for a child to live in should he lose that. I can’t imagine living and thinking that there’s no good. I only fear the day he loses it, it’ll be because of his power. As a hero you fight bad all the time, soon you see only bad, start to think that it is unending so what’s the point in fighting it. It’s cruel that he has this power and I think so much of him for managing to stay so positive despite it.”

“Jeez babe…”

“Also, he says thank you a million times over for the money. He’s going to use it for school and some trans friends’ Kickstarters. I’m not sure what exactly that means but I’m glad it was enough. Apparently with Stark’s help, and by help, I mean money, Peter has had his top surgery!”

The Grandmaster blinked a few times and took a second to reroute his train of thought. Loki was never one to dwell on heavy subjects for too long and this wasn’t even close to the first time he’d careened into an entirely new subject after doing so. “Uh, top… surgery. That’s the one where-?” He grabbed his chest.

“Yes.” Loki chuckled at the crudeness of his gesture. “Hungry still, or are you full up on…” he tried to remember what the dried creatures in the dish were called but he blanked, “those?”

“I could eat.”

\----------

The Grandmaster planned something that would hopefully be relaxing: a picnic in the woods. He knew Loki was raised in the woods and had a connection to it. Even if he didn’t know that, it was pretty easy to tell Loki liked forests if just by how he was constantly going off into them. He could barely go anywhere with Loki around trees without getting sucked into a nature walk. Not that he didn’t enjoy it. No, it was always nice, it was just funny how Loki put up this front of posh arrogance when in actuality he was some sort of forest witch.

The Grandmaster took his time picking out the perfect place. It was secluded, on a national park, gorgeous, and in the same climate as where they’d been staying so the temperature was comfortable. He double-checked the weather before even mentioning it to Loki, because he was going to be fucked if he didn’t finally get to ask this time. There were no people around to pick a fight with Loki, no chance of falling asleep in the middle of eating, no water monsters… Peter could call again, but it was a chance he’d have to take.

Instead of teleporting, the Grandmaster opted for a more romantic option: a stroll through the coastal streets and to the woods, working up an appetite as well. It would easily be much too far to walk for a human, but as gods themselves, walking for several miles in beautiful weather was nothing. Not to mention that it gave them plenty of time to take in the scenery and talk about whatever came to mind: the water, the people, the architecture, plans, Sakaar, Earth, magic, whatever.

By the time they’d found the perfect spot to set down, it was well past midday and they were ravenous. They laid out their spacious blanket, blue and white checked, over the grass. It had admittedly looked plenty soft, but grass stains were a bitch to get out, even with magic. It was a small clearing just off the barely trod trail, surrounded by a dense cluster of trees, full and lush with leaves and blooms. They reminded Loki of willows but covered in the tiniest of pink flowers and attended by clouds of bees, flying in stunning coordination. Higher up in the branches, where it was just sparse enough for birds to dart in and out, they shot through the swarms of bees with their breaks open, catching a mouthful and disappearing again.

Loki looked up, eyes wide in wonder at the almost fairytale-esque scene before him, blades of sunlight beaming through the trees casting glowing rays of glittery light, gentle breeze disturbing the branches enough to make the light dance. “How do you find these places?” He breathed.

“Faith, trust, and a little pixie dust.” In actuality, the Grandmaster went to a number of people and just asked where he might find a romantic place to picnic in the woods and after a few suggestions, he took to the internet to refine his search. The whole thing took just a couple hours.

The Grandmaster had brought a lot of goodies, more than what it would look physically possible to put into the basket. Loki smiled at it, a complex extension spell that he himself couldn’t even manage, laughably, as he could access a pocket dimension. Time and space were weird.

“I tried to get a little of everything. Healthy, junky, sweet, savory, sour, salty, bitter, fresh.” It was enough to feed a small army, but he wanted to make sure Loki got exactly what he wanted, and at the time he was packing he couldn’t very well have just asked him because then it would’ve ruined the surprise.

Splayed across the fabric were fresh fruits and veggies, disassembled sandwiches as not to get soggy, chips, chocolate covered pretzels, smoked fish, crackers, various sliced meats, breads, tea, water, alcohol of course, and that was just what he’d pulled out of the basket before Loki took his wrist and giggled.

“That is way more than enough, thank you. Let’s just eat.”

The whole place steeped with magic: the way the trees danced in the wind, the colors, the birdsong, the way the air seemed to glitter. Even on a planet very largely modernized, the fact that there were stretches of barely touched land like this was wondrous. Truly if Loki’s personality would allow it, he’d live in a wood like this, so peaceful and beautiful, but he required attention at all moments of the day. See, if he went without it for too long, he instigated fights, and, well, lived up to his title of God of Mischief. The last time he got attention-starved, he stole the entirety of Idunn’s garden and managed to successfully blame it on Thor, barely putting more than a few words into his performance before there was an all-out fight. He didn’t destroy it or anything, just moved it a few lightyears to the left momentarily and put it back just as they started to suspect the trickster was the one to play the trick… what a surprise. Turns out really, really bad attention is better than none at all. He won’t read into that.

In the woods, there are a lot of noises, animals calling, branches moving, earth settling, sticks breaking, leaves rustling, all sorts, but even to untrained ears, it was easy to pick out when a sound wasn’t quite right. Loki perked up exactly as the Grandmaster did, turning their heads toward the trees to their side. There was a loud, deep snap and a low growl, close to the sound of a shifting tree. Loki swallowed his grape and narrowed his eyes. Whatever it was, it wasn’t small, and it was close. If the trees weren’t so dense, he would’ve been able to make out a shape, but the birds had gone silent, which was all the information he needed.

They sat as still as stone, watching, waiting for either a similar sound farther away, the birds coming back, something to indicate whatever it was, was gone, but instead of such luck, there was a cacophony of thudding footsteps and trees snapping like twigs, coming right toward them.

Loki and the Grandmaster locked eyes for a split second in silent conversation and nodded, making for the tree line opposite the beast. If it wasn’t for their damned curiosity, they’d’ve just teleported out of there, but they just had to know exactly what this thing was. They scrambled onto the ground around a tree far enough off their picnic spot that they could see, but that there’d be enough time for the Grandmaster to say a few words and reappear in their suite.

Just as they slammed into the ground, there breaking the tree line was a muscular, bluish grey six-legged animal, with clawed feet the size of a car, leathery skin, horns, and thin, jagged toothed mouth. It looked almost like a rhinoceros crossed with an alligator, with more eyes and two tails. It seemed aggressive for some reason. Maybe their scents got into its territory and it wasn’t fond of that. If that was the case, it was weird the trail was so close to its territory, but what did they know? They weren’t natives here. Maybe the natives’ scent didn’t bother it.

The grandmaster raised his hand and a faint red glow radiated from his fingertips. Loki almost slapped his hand down. “Don’t kill it!” He shout-whispered.

“Why not?” The Grandmaster asked incredulously.

“It probably just smelled the food. We don’t need to hurt it.”

“It seems awfully pissed off. We may not have a choice if it sees us.” It struck him as odd that Loki would care about the wellbeing of a random animal, but it sunk in that even as an occasionally homicidal god, Loki had an incredible amount of compassion. It seemed that he rarely killed for no reason. He’d start things, yes, but he wouldn’t raise a weapon at something until it tried to hurt him first. Mostly. Maybe it was the leaf he turned over after they got together. As far as he knew, Loki was a little shit but not a murderer.

“Just- let’s let it be and go.”

“Not without my basket.”

Loki gave him a look. “Who cares about a random god-damned basket?”

The animal seemed to calm down, if only slightly, as it bent down and nosed at the foods lying out on their blanket. It happily picked up the fruits and meats, strangely avoiding the other things, and then picked up the Grandmaster’s basket and ate that as well.

The Grandmaster scoffed. “Where am I going to find another enchanted basket?”

“You didn’t enchant it yourself?”

“No, that’s a really complex spell. I can’t.”

Loki smiled and shook his head. “Just, come on.”

It wasn’t the best opportunity, but the Grandmaster wanted to propose then and there. He didn’t get the chance though, because apparently the animal has good ears and they were too loud. It looked right at them and snarled.

“Time to go.” The Grandmaster said quickly and muttered the incantation, so they disappeared just barely before it charged at them.

\----------

At last a day had come that wasn’t overbearingly hot or too cold to enjoy the water. The massive lake they’d settled down near was probably the size of a small country if they considered the average planet they’d been, and as such there was plenty of coastline up for grabs.

They took their sweet time finding a nice and secluded section of beach to get comfortable on, setting out a huge umbrella to shade their towels, cooler filled with snacks and wine coolers, a few books, and their floaties. Plus an entire city block for Loki’s sun hat. Not quite, but it was laughably large. Loki explained that his fair skin burned easily and that he couldn’t be bothered to reapply the damned sunscreen but wouldn’t be caught dead with peeling skin.

The Grandmaster, on the other hand, genuinely did not believe that sunburns were a real thing. “If the sun can literally ‘burn’ skin,” he airquoted, “then why do people sit out in it all the time and risk it?”

“Because the warmth is nice, and it’s not that bad, drama queen. Depending on the burn, it could be just a little red or be so bad that touching the area is agonizing and you’ll peel your skin off the affected area like some sort of molting lizard but… painful.”

“Then how’ve I never been burnt?”

“I am not having this conversation, you absolute doornail, so use the lotion or don’t, but don’t come crying to me if you can’t move your arms, face, or lie down because it feels like you’re made out of crushed glass.”

The trip wasn’t just for fun though. There was an ulterior motive for the Grandmaster. He wanted to try and propose to Loki at some point. Maybe a bit tipsy walking along the sand and collecting shells, or sat in the sun and joking, something. He just had to get it right this time.

Ever confident, the Grandmaster’s swimsuit was a pair of shockingly short, snug fitting trunks in a shade of blue that nearly matched the sky with decorative slits along his hips just below the waistband. While Loki instead wore the more commonly seen loose trunks in his trademark black, but with, gasp, hot pink stitching! It was like a complete stranger was lying next to the Grandmaster.

Loki knew he wouldn’t last long in this heat. As, biologically, a frost giant, he had a much lower core temperature than other Asgardians and the Grandmaster, who ran comfortably at around 104 degrees. Loki was normally around 92 degrees, even in his Aesir form, and it made him all the more sensitive to hot weather. Turning to his frost giant form would only make it a thousand times worse considering it’d drop to about negative 10 degrees. He would probably, literally, die if he did that. Even now under the umbrella he felt the back of his neck beginning to perspire. The Grandmaster was probably loving this weather.

It was one wine cooler later before Loki couldn’t take a moment more of it, and finally waded into the crisp cool water with his inner tube. Gods, that felt incredible. Good thing he remembered his sunglasses too because it was bright as shit outside. “Grandmaster, the water is lovely, come float with me.”

The water was remarkably calm given the strength of the breeze, and it made their floating around lazily all the more enjoyable. No floating away, no splashing into their faces, no worry about capsizing, and they even stayed close enough that neither had to raise their voice to chat. It was probably the combination of the sun, sand, and water that created the mood, that sort of barely describable feeling… it was liminal. The bird singing and the sound of the surf washing against the sand, the distant sounds of the city.

“Do you ever miss your home?” Loki said suddenly, after many minutes of comfortable silence.

The Grandmaster thought on this for a moment. “I assume you mean the planet I was born on, and I do... but it’s such a distant memory, and- and so many homes ago that all I really miss is that feeling of... effortless belonging. No responsibilities, no worries, no power struggles, no wars, just… being a child. The only thing I have left of that place really is my brother and me, and I haven’t seen or spoke to in… I have truly no idea how long. Taneleer and I are the very last of our people and… somehow we’ve ended up not so different.”

“How so?”

“As I go by ‘The Grandmaster’, he goes by ‘The Collector’ and prides himself on collecting the rarest, one-of-a-kind creatures and objects in the universe. He’s a bit of a flounce like me, even copied my little lip stripe. But if you bring it up, he’ll say I was the one who copied him, which is a complete lie. But they say, uh, that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”

“My brother and I couldn’t be more different. Superficial things like the way we dress, or carry ourselves, deeper things like values and goals… honestly, I think the only thing we have in common is shoe size. Not necessarily a bad thing. We get along well enough now that we’ve made up.”

“Made up?”

“We more or less fought all the time up until a few years ago. Remember when I disappeared?” He looked up to see him nod. “We fought for our people, together, and, I don’t know, all the things we’d squabbled about over the years seemed so unimportant.”

“Then why come back?”

“Hm?”

“To me, I mean. If things had just finally started to go right, why jeop- jeopardize that and find me again?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

The Grandmaster smiled. “Yeah, but I wanna hear you say it.”

Loki threw his arm over his forehead like a waifish woman about to faint. “Oh Grandmaster, my love, En Dwi Gast, light of my life, apple of my eye, it is because I love you so dearly, and don’t you dare forget it.” He splashed a little water over onto him.

“What do you love about me?” He turned to look at Loki who was lounging in his tube so that only his arms and head were above water, still in his sunglasses and hat.

“Your money, your body, your power,” he started, mostly joking, “your sense of humor, your kindness, your gentleness, how easygoing you are, your patience… that you’re so easy to talk to.”

“Most people find me... utterly terrifying. Probably because I’m so powerful and so erratic.” He laid back down flat and let his arm dip down into the water to steer himself and cool off just a little.

“You’re not that erratic, besides I think it’s more that you’re so worldly and open minded that there’s hardly any judgement from you about anything at all. Remember that time I told you I was skinning this guy alive and you were just looking at me like I was reading you a love poem?”

“Well I don’t exactly have the right to judge considering the things I’ve done.”

“Exactly.”

“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone.”

“What?” Loki peered over the frame of his sunglasses and under the brim of his hat.

“You heard me.” He splashed Loki back.

“Wasn’t expecting it is all… um…” Loki thought for a while. He kept more secrets that he dared to count and a good many he’d forgotten over the years, but to choose one that was safe to say and could be used with no context… “Oh, well nobody really knows this and it’s mostly my fault for putting up a hard-ass front, but I really adore children. They’re so innocent and filled with wonder, trusting, kind, free.”

“Really? I would’ve thought you’d enjoy pranking them considering how easy they are to fool.”

“Never. Childlike innocence is a scarce and wondrous thing and I wouldn’t dare destroy something so precious. Besides, where’s the fun in, literally, taking candy from a baby?”

“Fair point.”

“Your turn.”

“Oh, my turn?” He said, jokingly incredulously. “I have never once eaten a pear.”

Loki gawked at him. “I give you a secret that, if you told someone, could ruin my reputation, and you tell me about green fruit?”

“Hey, they can be red too.”

“En.”

“Okay, let’s see.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t know how to drive.”

Loki scoffed and smiled. “What, like a spaceship or…?”

“Ship, car, plane, boat, golf ball. I can’t even ride a bike.”

Loki laughed. “It’s not even that hard, any of those things. Now I have to teach you, you know. Think we can find a bike here? Wait how’d you even get here then?”

“Don’t make fun of me. I’ll have you know I haven’t learned because I’ve always had someone else to do it for me or autopilot.”

“Someone rode a bike for you?” Loki teased.

“You know what I meant, ass.” He smiled.

“No, yeah, that makes sense. It’s the same reason I can’t cook a damned thing.”

“Me neither.”

“Aw, we can learn together.”

The Grandmaster, carefully, turned onto his side to face Loki but found that he’d disappeared, his hat and sunglasses somehow balanced on the rounded edge of his inner tube. “Loki?” He’d disappeared without a sound.

There wasn’t a trace of him for what honestly felt like several minutes, but that couldn’t be right… right? The Grandmaster looked around the water and along the beach but there was nothing. It was exactly the moment that he started to worry that suddenly an incredible force came from underneath him and threw him from his floatie, well more toppled over, but it was very strong.

In the scant second before he realized what happened, the Grandmaster had only the smallest of heart attacks, whipped around to see what had done it, and saw, just as he heard, Loki giggling at his frantic expression.

“Did I scare ya?”

“Jeez, you can hold your breath… I’m wet.”

“I can see that. Look, your hair’s gone all flat.” Loki smiled and futzed with the strands pasted to his forehead, attempting to push them aside while the both of them were bobbing around irregularly. “I wasn’t down for that long, was I?”

“Felt long.”

“I can hold my breath for near twenty minutes if I try hard enough.”

“What?!” The Grandmaster could barely believe that.

“Pretty normal for my kind.”

“I got 40 seconds if I hold perfectly still.”

Loki looked at him like he sprouted a third arm on his head. “Yeah, okay, then how am I going to show you this beautiful structure under the water here?”

“Photo, scuba gear?”

“Nope.” Loki smirked and tapped his finger against the tip of the Grandmaster’s nose.

He felt the familiar warm sensation of magic being cast on himself and just rolled with it as Loki pulled him down under the waves, leaving their floaties to their own devices.

Loki was a strong swimmer, cutting through the water like fish, even dragging the Grandmaster behind him, who could swim albeit like the average person, not like Loki, like some professional. Do they have those? Professional swimmers? It took a while to reach the bottom, longer than the Grandmaster knew he could hold his breath swimming, but at the bottom there sat a breathtaking scene. If it could take his breath, that is.

There was an old ship - not spaceship, but boat ship- resting in the sand encrusted with centuries of coral growth and teeming with a stunning array of fish and plants. He motioned for him to follow and Loki took off towards it. The fish didn’t seem at all bothered by the comparatively large creature coming right towards them, going about their business, and Loki squeezed through a crack in the hull. It was as far as he got last time before he decided he really needed to show the Grandmaster.

The Grandmaster made it inside as Loki started poking around at all the stuff the water hasn’t destroyed or washed away yet. He stopped just inside and watched Loki swim around with such practiced grace, his hair flowing with the current like silk. It looked like he was dancing and the Grandmaster caught himself staring, gazing, besotted with the lithe god, complete with absent-minded smile. He could watch him like this for hours, but even Loki couldn’t hold his breath that long. Speaking of which, whatever Loki did, it was a clever little bit of magic. He had no idea how he wasn’t gagging for air yet. He’d have to ask.

Loki waved something shiny he sifted out of the sand next to what was probably the bones of a sailor. It looked like a misshapen gold coin, and Loki brought it closer to him and it had a little circle pressed into it and some lines, could be language or a design, but they couldn’t make it out. It was cool nonetheless and Loki tucked it into the tiny Velcro pocket in the hem of his trunks and went off to pluck a bone from the pile that used to be a person… presumably. For all they knew, it could’ve been a large fish or a native creature, or who knows really.

The Grandmaster shrugged internally, supposing the skeleton didn’t really need it anymore.

They swam into the next room, or chamber, which had much more light from a massive break in the ceiling above them, opening a space to the deck of the ship. They could see the silvery rippled underside of the surface of the water, between them and it, hundreds of fish. Loki was so busy looking up that he didn’t see where he was going and swam right into the wall, caked in corals. Normally it would’ve been nothing, but his waterlogged skin had grown softer being under for so long and he began to bleed from huge swathes of tiny cuts all along his left side; arm, leg, chest. He didn’t notice that either until the Grandmaster saw the pink tinted water inking around him and grabbed his arm to inspect it.

There they both noticed the almost patterned array of likely hundreds of cuts. The Grandmaster motioned with a concerned expression for them to go back up, but Loki shook his head. ‘It’s fine.’ He mouthed. And he was, really, after all he might lose maybe a few ounces of blood from such micro cuts which was nothing he hasn’t had before. That wasn’t what the Grandmaster was worried about, but he let them continue on their little adventure. Pillaging the wreck for bits of valuables and curiosities.

They got as far as five separate rooms before Loki spotted something out of the corner of his eye, something large. He turned to see but it was gone. Suspicious, with a healthy fear for the unknown, Loki took the Grandmaster’s wrist and tugged him back toward the closest way out. He signed to him a quick motion that looked like breathing as an explanation should he be wondering why they were going.

They got to an opening in the hull when Loki spotted the form again, a massive bluish-grey scaled thing that nearly looked like a dragon crossed with a dolphin. It cut through the water like a knife, barreling towards a school of fish and took a bite. It had several rows of jagged, triangular teeth Loki could just make out as its jaw clamped shut on a few of them. Loki gulped.

The Grandmaster turned Loki around and made the same breathing motion with concerned eyes. They both needed air. So, no waiting for it to leave. Great.

Loki waited as long as he could, moments after the thing was out of his sight, obviously still nearby, but he had to go. He grabbed the Grandmaster’s wrist and hauled off as fast as he could toward where he could just make out the outline of their inner tubes against the surface. It wasn’t three seconds before he saw the thing making for them and he gave it all he had, but even with the Grandmaster’s help it was gaining. It was made for the water. Of course they couldn’t out-swim it.

Loki started panicking. That was way too many teeth in way too large of a mouth for either of them to be getting caught by it unless he felt he really didn’t need the lower half of his body.

The Grandmaster didn’t notice it chasing them until Loki started panicking. He felt it strongly in their psychic bond. Very rarely did Loki feel something so strongly that he involuntarily let it wash over to him. He looked back at the creature and made a silent thanks to past him for learning wordless magic before killing it. All it took was a thought and every atom in its body was scattered to countless corners of the planet, dissolved and disappeared.

Loki didn’t stop until he reached the surface, desperate to throw the Grandmaster over him and onto the beach before it reached them. He landed with a thud and Loki braced for pain, but nothing came. He panted and looked behind him under the water. There was nothing. The adrenaline made him lose sensation in his fingers and he could scarcely think for a moment until his heart calmed down and he remembered with an embarrassed sigh. “Fuck!” He shook himself. “I forgot you could do that.” He slumped against the lounge floaty and just breathed, relieved that they were safe.

The Grandmaster sailed probably sixty feet before crash landing into the sand, a lot harder than it looks, and he groaned. That hurt… He rubbed his leg tenderly around the stop he landed directly on. Loki was stronger than he looked, and he was constantly forgetting that. It dawned on him what just happened, and he blinked a few times. Loki, without hesitation, was going to sacrifice himself for him. He whipped around wide-eyed and the man resting on the plastic rectangle, clearly breathing heavily by the way his shoulders heaved.

“Loki, I…” The Grandmaster was at a loss for words, so humbled by what happened, he couldn’t form anything appropriate to say. From his multitude of options, he finally settled on, “I can’t die.” Not the best choice.

There was a beat, then, “… I forgot that too, fuck me running.”

Loki paddled to shore with the floaties in tow and tossed them at their little spot before slumping down onto his towel. “I cannot believe you.”

“What?” The Grandmaster came over and knelt next to him to examine his cuts now that they were ashore. That was enough of the water for today, or maybe for the year, or decade.

“I’m just so dumb, I can’t believe I forgot that.”

“You’re not dumb… a klutz maybe, but not dumb.” He used some gentle healing magic to stop the bleeding and close them up. Loki’s racing heart didn’t help with the blood loss, but now that he was lying down and calm he should be just fine, granted he didn’t get some weird infection. But he doubted it. The Grandmaster ran his hands over the exposed skin and watched as the larger strips of puckered skin pulled together and left the faintest of marks.

 

Loki was covered in scars. He’d never asked about them, partially out of respect, and partially that he didn’t want to embarrass Loki or bring up any bad memories. Surely any memory he got hurt in wasn’t a good one, but the more traumatic ones he was concerned with. You don’t get this many scars without a story for at least a handful of them. He let his eyes trace over the larger ones, jagged lines across his chest, marred and discolored skin drawing patterns all over his chest, arms, legs, it almost broke his heart. Even at his age the Grandmaster didn’t have a fraction of the scars Loki did, and now he was leaving Loki with a few hundred more. Tiny, granted, but still.

The ones he wanted to ask about the most were the dozen or so dots above Loki’s upper lips and below his lower lip. They were almost imperceptible, so old they had faded so close to his natural skin tone, but the tiny raised dots were unmistakably scars. For the longest time he assumed they were left over from some piercings, but on a few occasions now, he’s spotted Loki off in his head, absently tracing his fingers over the marks, and he quickly stops when he notices him. He didn’t seem mad, or even upset, but it was clear he wasn’t going to talk about it.

“Are you alright?” The Grandmaster finally met Loki’s eyes.

“Yes, thank you.”

The Grandmaster thought this was a lovely time to try, fresh out of a tiny adventure, and saving his life? Perfect, but once again as he started, Loki interrupted. “Loki, I-”

“I need to go home.” He did realize he spoke over him and apologized. “Sorry, what was that?”

The Grandmaster was about to finally ask, frustrated and tired that he hadn’t managed to get one simple question out yet, but he faltered. This isn’t about him, it’s about them both. It may be a good time, a heroic time, for him to ask, but Loki thought he was about to die, minutes ago. He couldn’t ask him now. “You gotta tell me what that spell was- with the breath holding.”

“Oh… it was like shared breath. You were using air from my lungs.” Loki smiled softly. He could’ve sworn the Grandmaster was going to ask him something else, but he didn’t say anything. “I could’ve wrapped your head in a bubble of air, but they pop too easily and, as we both know, coral is sharp as fuck.” He admired the work the Grandmaster did on his side. He was very skilled with healing magic; the scars were barely noticeable. If he’d done it himself, he’d look like he was half Deadpool. Not that he knew who that was.

“You’ll have to teach me sometime,” the Grandmaster started. “Let’s go home. I could use a nap myself.” He helped Loki up and they tucked their stuff into a pocket dimension, not wanting to carry it all the wall back to their suite.

Partway up the sand hill to the roadside, the Grandmaster turned to Loki. “Why does my skin hurt?”

Loki laughed and shook his head.

\----------

At home, the Grandmaster was sat on the sofa futzing around with phone. He got the hang of it easily, but every time he played with it, he found more and more goodies on it. Not only could he communicate instantly with people systems away, but there were games, a calendar, music, internet access, oho, there were even apps to watch TV. It was delightful.

He would be doing something more productive, like writing in his journal as he tried to every day, or cleaning, doing laundry, practicing magic, anything, but no one was home to bug him into moving from his comfy spot. No one meaning Loki of course, but he was texting Val, about nothing really, just small talk to keep himself busy. Since Topaz was dead and his brother flat out refused to give him his number, rude, these days he only had Loki and Val to bother. That was going to have to change soon if he wasn’t going to drive one of them, literally, insane.

The Grandmaster forgot where Loki said he went. He was in the middle of a nice nap when Loki told him, so it wasn’t really his fault his sleep-addled brain didn’t retain the conversation. He wasn’t worried or anything, but he was getting hungry and didn’t want to eat in case Loki was bringing something back.

Not a minute after he sent Loki a text ‘wyd babe’, did Loki trod into the suite with a single bag on his arm.

Loki’s phone chimed, and he read it before greeting the Grandmaster. “I am just getting home. Sorry that took so long. There was a mix-up and I almost murdered a few people, but it’s fine.” He walked over and pressed a kiss to the Grandmaster’s forehead.

“Did you eat? I’m starving.”

“You know, I was going to pick something up, but I was already halfway home when-” He stopped and looked at the Grandmaster’s, bad, puppy dog face, lower lip stuck out comically far. “You know me too well.” He summoned another couple bags out of his pocket dimension and sat them down on the coffee table.

“I love you so much.” The Grandmaster grinned. “You spoil me.” He took the containers out of the bags while Loki got some silverware form the kitchen.

When he walked back in, he set it down next to the food, but instead of sitting down next to the Grandmaster, he knelt on the floor in front of him.

“I… When I said I was going to the store earlier, it was true, but it wasn’t to get product for my hair.”

That’s what he said! The Grandmaster screamed in his head.

Loki cringed a little. “Loud… you forgot?”

“Yes.” No point in lying.

“Oh well, it’s not important.” He grabbed the bag he walked in with from the floor and took a smallish case out of it. About four inches wide and twelve long. “What I was actually doing was getting this polished and etched.” He turned the case toward the Grandmaster and opened it. Inside was one of Loki’s daggers. It looked practically brand new, shining like it had its own golden light source and darker than black. The contrast was so stunning it almost looked animated.

Near the hilt on the blade, the Grandmaster made out an inscription in an angled font, looking like Loki’s handwriting. ‘En Dwi Gast.’ Loki picked up the blade gingerly and turned it over to show the writing on the other side that read ‘Loki Odinson”.

“Marry me.” The Grandmaster didn’t realize he’d said it until he looked up from the weapon and saw Loki’s bewildered expression.

Loki blinked a few times and took a breath, with the slightest of smirks. “En… that’s exactly what I’m asking you with this dagger.” He grinned.

“W- oh, God damnit.” The Grandmaster let his arms fall to his sides. Trying and failing so many times to propose only for Loki to beat him to it was absolutely ridiculous.

“It’s just, you’ve been so romantic lately and honestly it might be stupid considering you’ll never die, but… I love you En, and I want to be with you. Wait,” Loki used his spare hand to take one of the Grandmaster’s. “Did you not know what I was doing?”

“No, I mean of course I do- the dagger threw me off- it’s just I’ve been trying for literally weeks to ask you but every time I opened my mouth, something happened.”

“What?!” Loki laughed. “Are you serious? That’s so precious, I can’t believe that. So, wait, is that a yes?”

“Of course, gods, yes, I will marry you!” The Grandmaster practically leapt out of his spot and onto Loki on the floor, smattering his face with kisses. “But you have to answer me one question.”

“Anything, what?”

“Will you marry me?” The Grandmaster produced seemingly out of nowhere a silver band with intricate designs in the metalwork itself, looking almost like the same Sakaarian architecture he’d seen, but more… organic, and dotted along a third of it were precious stones, as bright and shining as the dagger, which was toppled onto the floor a good five feet away from where they were pressed together on the floor.

“Yes! Yes, duh, yes!”

Normally Loki wouldn’t dare wear jewelry on his hands or wrists because there was a risk magic could flow out of it instead of his fingers, and potentially have disastrous consequences, but he was more than experienced enough to risk it. He wouldn’t take it off now. It was so gorgeous and fit perfectly on his finger. If there was one thing the Grandmaster knew, it was jewelry, and it was so clear that Loki had a cold complexion, probably because of his literal blue blood. The silver looked just so good on his hand.

They abandoned their food, forgetting about it, focused instead on each other’s lips, and as uncomfortable as the hardwood floor was, especially on Loki’s shoulder’s and the Grandmaster’s knees, they didn’t care. It was like absolutely nothing else in the universe existed but each other.

\----------

Loki woke up first, sprawled out on the floor, back just all sorts of wrong, blanket draped over him. His fault really. It seemed the both of them fell asleep on the floor. At the very least, the Grandmaster had the senses to move to the couch, but not before giving Loki a blanket. He could’ve just taken him to their bed… Loki grunted and sat up, stretching out his spine and a few horrifying cracks echoed in the quiet room. The only other sounds were of a light drizzle outside and the Grandmaster’s slow, even breaths.

Loki padded off to their room, his top priority some clean and comfortable clothes, before making some coffee. He didn’t even bother checking the time before the stove clock caught his eye; it was barely past seven. The Grandmaster wouldn’t be up for several hours at least unless he absolutely had no other choice, but there wasn’t anything pressing. At least not right now.

As a schemer by trade, Loki was often thinking about any given situation about twelve steps ahead of what he needed to, and it worked if how often they worked out for him was any indication, so he couldn’t help but think about their wedding now.

Loki fiddled with the ring on his finger, admiring it in the light. It was so incredibly gorgeous he didn’t notice that his coffee was done for several minutes. He wondered briefly if the Grandmaster’s people exchanged rings instead of just significant articles, which is why Loki chose to give him one of his daggers. Now that he thought about it, he didn’t know very much at all about the Grandmaster’s culture. Not for want of trying of course. He had asked about things on innumerable occasions and it was usually met with an ‘I don’t know’ or half response. It seemed he may have simply forgotten after all this time.

Who would officiate? Loki frowned. His parents were dead, his people thought he was missing or dead, and he didn’t want a stranger doing it, so that left out everyone on this entire planet. He retreated into the study, far enough away that he was sure any little noises he made wouldn’t wake the Grandmaster. Heimdall did not like him very much and wouldn’t care to ask him. He wasn’t telling Thor he was alive, let alone getting married halfway across the universe to a man that kidnapped him and very nearly made him fight to the death for entertainment. Which really only left… Loki scoffed. Valkyrie.

She was in position to as a warrior general, knew Loki was alive, and didn’t want to kill him. The only drawback was that she’d hear him bare his heart, but if he was amenable, hopefully so was she. He’d have to ask her later.

He found a notepad and a functioning marker to jot down some details while they were on the top of his mind. With no way to tell what this planet’s equivalent of Friday was, Loki had to be wed on a full moon - at least one of them. This planet had three, and he still had no clue how to tell when one was doing what. ‘Get a lunar calendar’ he added and paused before putting under it, ‘learn how to read a three-moon lunar calendar’.

He went on like this for a good while apparently because he was pulled out of his focus by a light knock on the door frame. “My, my, aren’t we a busy bulkir.”

“What… is a bulkir?” Loki looked around at the mess he’d made around him. Jeez, that was a lot of wasted paper. Did these people recycle?

“It’s a big, ratty thing that steals your clothes and garbage and stuff and makes huge nests in your walls. They’re busy. You don’t say that?”

“We say snipe. And I learned humans say beaver.”

“Interesting… what’re you up to?”

“Well, I started by making a few notes, and it sort of became a planning mess.”

“You don’t have to do that by yourself.” The Grandmaster came right up next to him and skimmed a few of the notes he could read. “Oh I just love lily of the valley - they smell so sweet.”

“You know I’ve been realizing that I know so little about your culture. I have simply no idea how to make this experience inclusive of you and your traditions.”

“That’s okay. I only know some of yours because Val told me.”

“You asked her about Aesir wedding ceremonies?”

“Of course. I wanted to propose as, uh, respectfully as possible.”

Loki smiled softly. As incredibly sweet and thoughtful that was, there was a very distinct chance Thor knew what was happening, which was not ideal.

“Thor has no idea.”

Loki looked at him.

“I told her it was a secret after she figured it out. She said she wouldn’t tell, ‘none of her news to tell’ she said.”

“Are you reading my thoughts?”

“No babe, of course not. Consent. You furrowed your brows and I assumed.”

“Not to jump right into things, I just got ahead of myself.” He tried to organize the paper disaster splayed out in front of him.

“No, no, I think it’s necessary. Might as well get some of it done.”

“So, do you know how any of this works?”

“As a matter of fact, I am a genius, and I know everything, so… no, I only know what Val told me.”

Loki took his time carefully explaining how weddings on Asgard normally functioned, how it took months of planning usually and the ceremony itself only a couple hours at most. “I don’t think the whole rigamarole is necessary though,” he said in reference to the asset deliberation which is what took the most time anyway. It only took a few minutes to explain his part, during which it was obvious the Grandmaster was holding back giggles.

“What?” Loki asked.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… it’s hard to talk so seriously when your face is just covered in schmutz.”

Loki wiped his chin and saw on his fingers purple body glitter gloss. He licked his lips. “Yeah. You’re not exactly close-up ready either.” He conjured a mirror and pointed it at the equally-smudged face in front of him.

“Well, would you look at that.”

“Maybe you should stop putting makeup there that isn’t smudge-proof or tattoo it instead.”

The Grandmaster made a fake-offended gasp. “And not make a huge mess of it all the time?”

“Anyway,” he went on, not caring enough to go wash his face yet, “I was wondering if there was anything you wanted. I want to incorporate my Jotun heritage into our day, but I want the day to be about the both of us, not just me.”

“Okay. I want the part where we get really open and vulnerable to be as small as possible, but the biggest party afterwards that we can manage. Oh, and I get to be in charge of the music.”

“I wanted intimate too…” Loki found the paper with that written on it and underlined it. Couldn’t let everybody know they had weaknesses now, could they?

“Besides that, whatever you want. Of course I’m more than happy to help with whatever you need.”

“Let’s get some lunch.”

“Breakfast?”

“Brunch?”

“Perfect.”

\----------

It took a lot of planning, a lot of handwriting, and just two conniptions, but finally, finally, the mid-autumn day came. Whether or not the weather was perfect because of sheer luck or because of a certain someone was still up in the air, but Loki couldn’t be bothered to care in the slightest.

Loki had barely slept the night before, both from the excitement and from sleeping in his own bed alone. They weren’t to see each other until at the altar, and Loki was so excited he could scarcely contain himself. He shot out of bed and into the bathroom, to shower quickly before texting Valkyrie that it was time - he couldn’t very well be expected to primp and prime himself, now could he? Well, that wasn’t what Valkyrie was going to do, but she had a small group of other Asgardians who were more than happy to help him on his big day, which was surprising considering he was near certain they all hated his guts. And the Grandmaster could not be expected to dress himself or he would show up in a plaid skirt and floral print button down and neon colored cape. Loki could just hear him say, “What? It’s comfortable and looks great.” He wasn’t trying to be condescending, no, he really wanted the Grandmaster to be as he wanted, but with some slight tweaking if only to make life easier for Loki’s eyes and the photographer that Loki did not kidnap under false pretenses.

It only took a few hours for them to arrive which surprised Loki. He didn’t expect them until the afternoon. Perhaps the humans had developed better technology since he had been gone.

“Can’t believe I’m doing this,” she said, striding into Loki’s room without so much as a knock.

“Me neither, to be perfectly honest.” Loki sat on the chair in front of the vanity wearing nothing but a black silk robe, and a short one at that.

“I guess I have a soft spot for weddings. It’s not like I can just let you get married looking like Alice Cooper.”

“Who?”

Valkyrie sighed. “Human rock and roll musician, wears a lot of eyeliner and a lot of black. Doesn’t matter, anyway.” She motioned for three of the Asgardians to come in.

“The Grandmaster’s room is down the hall, last door on the right,” Loki said.

The other two heard him and made their way down the hall.

“Good morning, thank you for coming.” He smiled at them, two girls and a man, somehow seeming not uncomfortable at all to see Loki.

“Good morning, Your Highness.”

“Loki is fine.” He smiled.

“’Kay, where’d you want us?” Valkyrie asked.  
It was surprisingly pleasant, Loki decided, to be fussed over. Someone doing his nails, someone on his hair, a third on makeup. He could get used to this. He wasn’t doing anything particularly extravagant, nails cleaned and clear coat, clean face with only a little eyeliner - Valkyrie insisted - but the hair? That was another matter entirely. It was a good thing Valkyrie thought ahead, because Loki had remarkably thick hair for how greasy he let it look all the time, and the number of fine braids he wanted would be hell and a half on someone’s fingers if she didn’t ask specifically for someone who did fine braids for a living.

While he normally let his hair get greasy if only to keep it in place out of his face - there were better ways to do that but he couldn’t be bothered to put it up, tedious, and not to mention he couldn’t perform magic while wet - it was much easier to work with clean even if it meant a few hours of utter powerlessness. He left it up to the judgement of the man, Birger, since he was the one who knew, and it ended up looking quite nice. Loki was glad he didn’t do something drastic like turn his fingers into worms after the six millionth time the Asgardian had pulled his hair. Along either side of his head were three scalp tight braids with a few runic beads secured throughout and the braids fell in with the rest of his free hair right after where they came off his scalp, resting where the fluffy and very loose top braid fell into untouched hair. The whole of it made his face look even longer, if that were possible, and complimented his cheekbones - the spot where the tight braids ended was just above his clearly defined temples and Loki blinked in surprise upon admiring himself after Birger was done.

“Wow, this is really quite lovely, thank you.”

Ylva and Iona had finished long before Birger did, which gave plenty of time for his nails to dry before he immediately started futzing with his hair because he just couldn’t help himself.

“What did Valkyrie threaten you with to convince you to help me today?” Loki could just make out that his eyeliner was actually a dark plum color and not entirely black, and it made his blue-green eyes really pop.

“Nothing,” Iona said.  
Loki looked skeptically at the three of them, Valkyrie busy reading a magazine and drinking Loki’s scotch on Loki’s bed.

“To be perfectly frank, if you’ll forgive me,” Ylva started, “you are an absolute bastard and have done some unacceptable things.”

Loki narrowed his eyes.

“But we think now maybe it wasn’t truly out of contempt or carelessness. The year you ruled over Asgard in Odin’s skin was a peaceful and prosperous year.”

“You were a good and benevolent ruler, if a bit goofy.” Birger smiled.

“Not our business - family matters - but there are a lot of us who think you aren’t that bad.”

“A lot would still probably enjoy seeing you dead, but that’s…” Ylva shook her head.

“Interesting.” Loki wasn’t sure if he liked that or not. Obviously having some people that didn’t want him dead was good, but people liking him? He’d have to do something about that, probably, later, or some time, who knows. He liked unnecessary conflict for some reason. He wouldn’t read into that.

“How’re you gonna get your clothes on now with your hair and face done?” Valkyrie piped up, apparently having finished the article that had her attention.

“Magic,” he answered flatly and snapped his fingers, entirely for flare, while he stood. In a blink, he was fully dressed, and with not nearly as much black as any of them thought he’d have. It was still a lot, but a tiger can’t very well change his stripes.

The outfit was reminiscent of his normal armor but much more comfortable-looking and sleek, and a lot less leather. The chest piece was almost robe-like in the way it stretched into a waist cape that trailed a foot or so onto the floor secured by upward gold arches over his hips that matched in color the collar bone piece: his trademark gold ‘u’- that secured a white furred cape over his shoulders that fell to his knees. The inside of the waist cape was a green just darker that he normally wore and so was the inside of his collar, which rose up higher than usual but also had a V cutout like a turtleneck and long V-collared shirt came together. His chest, upper arms, and legs wore the brunt of the black, but with a lot of pattern relief in the gold stitching, diagonal inverse interlocking stripes across his stomach and diagonal parallel ones on his thighs, drawing the eye in and down. On his forearms were his golden, etched vambraces, bits of the same green peeking out from under them top and bottom, framing them and just so his shoulders wouldn’t lose attention, there again were a pair of golden arches, curved downward matching his chest piece.

It took a while for Loki himself to find something suitable, although technically he never did considering he made the clothes himself by hand. He magically replicated some of the armor he already had and stitched together parts, added new pieces, and a lot of trial and error. Along the way, Loki developed a newfound respect for people who make clothing because it was an absolute nightmare and he would absolutely not be doing that again, ever.

“If you tell anyone I said this, I’ll separate your head from your shoulders, but you clean up nice.” Valkyrie came up to him and adjusted his collar.

“You look fantastic!” Iona beamed, Ylva and Birger nodded.

“I know.” Loki smiled smugly. “Just one thing…” He turned back around to the mirror and looked at his hair. He wore it black so often because of his fondness for the color, and to match his aesthetic, but he felt like a little switch up. He ran his hand over the perfect side braids and it inked outward, root to tip, into a fiery ginger.

“Woah.” Valkyrie gawked at him.

“Didn’t you know?” Loki said. “I’m a natural redhead.”

“I… did not.” She let out a breathy laugh and shook her head. “It suits you.”

“All done in here?” One of the other Asgardians knocked gently on the door.

“Yes.” Loki answered and everyone but him filtered out.

“Is that one literally insane?” Loki heard one of them ask.

“Yes,” Valkyrie answered quickly. “See you there Loki.” She called from down the hall.

\----------

At the altar, Loki stood proud, hands clasped together, gently fidgeting with his ring. They were out in the woods, far away from where Loki and the Grandmaster saw that huge beast, and near a sheer cliff overlooking the sea. The trees were a dizzying array of color, their leaves on the brink of blanketing the forest floor. It was miraculous what a small degree of tilt on a rotational axis could do to a planet’s weather. Loki found himself, because of this, fonder of planets than his Asgardian home of eternal summer. An endless stream of warm days was lovely, but it didn’t allow for such beauty as this. Brown, green, yellow, orange, red, twinges of pink, a backdrop of blue.

The only people sat around were Valkyrie, himself, Grandmaster in a moment, the five Asgardians, and Peter, who had begged to come. Loki just couldn’t say no to the boy, but he was going home before a responsible bedtime on Earth. Good thing Peter’s phone was calibrated to Earth, otherwise Loki would have no possible way of knowing when to have him leave and might keep him up all night or something much worse.

With a pop, the Grandmaster appeared at the altar opposite Loki, making everyone but Loki jump.

They caught sight of one another and couldn’t take their eyes away. The Grandmaster, for once, opted to not wear a cloak, letting his bare shoulders and muscular arms free, though his wrists were covered in probably a dozen gold bracelets, and the tops of each of his fingers on his left hand covered in little gold plates. He wore what appeared to be a high collared pressed black sleeveless top, the collar made of gold as well, with a large solid gold chest plate covering the left half of his torso and a tendril swirling over to his right. His armored shoulder had a golden chain adorned with charms in various shapes, swooping down to his waist and around and back up his back attaching on the other side. The top flowed down, long on the sides of his hips and behind him like a waist cape, but stopping further in so there was no shirt covering his thighs. A strip fell down his middle like a loincloth but much longer, nearly to his knees. Around his waist was a gold belt accentuating his shape and on its center a large red gem matching in color to the slightly loose pants he wore. Nearly wine-wed, they were the same soft but firm-looking material as his top. And on his feet were oddly shaped solid gold shoes, almost like loafers. Of course, as well on his face was his blue stripe down his lip and chin and matching eyeliner.

“Wow.” They said simultaneously and looked each other over with pink tinted cheeks.

Valkyrie gave them a moment before clearing her throat softly and beginning. “Friends, we have been invited here today to share with Loki and the Grandmaster a very important moment in their lives. In the years they have been together, their love and understanding of each other has grown and matured, and now they have decided to live their lives together as spouses.”

As Valkyrie spoke, near entirely ad lib and very well done, Loki and the Grandmaster joined hands, feeling the cool sea breeze, and feeling only slightly foolish. It wasn’t from any measure of shame, but from, for once, removing their snarky exterior around other people and allowing themselves to be emotionally vulnerable.

“-because of its unity. I assume you both have vows of your own you’d like to recite?” She asked.

“Yes,” Loki breathed, “I’ll go.” He took just a moment to find his start.

“For most of my life, I was filled with hate. Hatred for certain peoples, for my family, for myself. It seemed like at times I was angry with everyone, like they were all somehow out to get me. It probably didn’t help that I was, and still am, really, a conniving little shit, bent on mischief. So, one day, I faked my death… so as to disappear, to take some time in peace to find myself, shifted so no one knew I was Loki. It took no time at all, comparatively, to settle into my role as benevolent, if fruity leader, and I found that without any of the pressure to please anyone but myself, that I am a rather gentle soul.

“For someone who had recently thought of himself as nothing but a monster, a harbinger of pain and death, it was a revelation. As I was stranded on Sakaar, I truly felt that the second half of my life had begun, a chance to begin anew, and I never thought that the day I met you would be the day that my life would change my life forever once again. The longer I was with you, the more I grew to love both you and myself, though I may not have realized it at first. After all, how long did it take me to tell you?”

The Grandmaster nodded and smiled wider.

“You unknowingly taught me that no matter how much you’ve gone through, how much you’ve done that you regret, you can be redeemed and make life worth living. You radiate positivity and joy so profoundly despite your hardships that… I admire you like nothing else, and I think it took me so long because as long as I’ve lived, I’d never experienced romantic love and… I had no idea what it felt like.

“But now I know, it’s… light, comfortable, peaceful, blissful, freeing. I have never felt more alive, free, and happy than when I am with you, and I want to spend every last second of my life experiencing this, with you.

“I, Loki, Odinson, Prince of Asgard, the rightful King of Jotunheim, God of Mischief, vow to love you, and to treasure you for all you are and all you aren’t, through sickness and in health, through adversity and advantage, ‘til death do we part.”

Scattered ‘aww’s and Valkyrie shuffling around drew them back out from being hypnotized by each other. She drew from a small box an embroidered golden cord, probably a yard long, and touched their hands in a silent request, forgetting that the Grandmaster probably had no clue what was happening.

“Right hand.” Loki took his left away and held out his right for the Grandmaster to match. As he started his own vows, Valkyrie began wrapping the cord around their clasped hands. He smiled, momentarily distracted by the culture before clearing his throat and speaking.

“A long time ago, I’d learned that love is often more painful than it’s worth. Outliving every single person I’ve ever loved. I grew cold, unattached… lonely. Then to compensate that loneliness, while still distancing myself emotionally, I got some fairly shitty coping mechanisms: anonymous sex, drinking, drugs, joking about it all, while inwardly I just wanted to scream and tear my hair out.” He swallowed. “I couldn’t keep on like that. It took me millennia, eons, to learn to appreciate the little things, to take life one moment at a time and know that even I am not permanent.

“At my age, even I am still learning. There are creatures whose entire lives are just a few days, and do they not cope with what they’re given and do the best with it? I am lucky, rather... to be able to love so much, so dearly, and for so long. And while I will almost certainly live longer than you, my most treasured prince, I will love you with every fiber of my being for every single second of our time together like there is no one else in this universe and I will do everything in my power to make sure you are happy, loved, safe, and cared for.

“I, En Dwi Gast, vow to love you and to cherish you, for who you are, with all faults and strengths, through sickness and health, through pain and comfort, for as long as we exist.”

Loki sucked in his lower lip and nodded aimlessly, brows furrowed together upwards, tears welling in his eyes, curbing the strong desire to say ‘babe… that’s so gay.’

Valkyrie tied a firm knot after looping the chord slowly several times over as he spoke. “And with this bond you are by eyes of the gods bound in this life together as one soul, a new life. By the power vested in me by the goddess of matrimony, Frigga, I pronounce you husband and husband.”

Barely before she’d finished her sentence did the two of them lurch forward and into a deep, giddy kiss.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you for the first time as a married couple Loki and En Dwi.” She figured the Grandmaster would welcome her using his real name if just for the occasion, and she was correct. The guests stood tall and offered an excited cheer, Valkyrie too, and clapped for the happy couple. Never in a million years did she think either of the boys would even consider marriage, but here she was gladly proven wrong.

“Fuck yeah, mister Loki!” Peter yelled.

“Language, Peter.” Loki broke off the kiss and gave him a look- all in good fun though, he wasn’t chastising.

“It’s really hard to kiss you properly with our hands tied up.” The Grandmaster giggled, centimeters away from trying again anyway.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” The Grandmaster gently touched Loki’s fire-red hair. “Can I ask what’s with this, husband?”

“It’s my natural color, husband.” He grinned and saw Valkyrie hold open the box before them.

“It’s gorgeous, makes your eyes pop.”

“Here.” Loki raised their hands up slightly to let Valkyrie slide the box under their hands. “Can you teleport us like a foot to my left, leaving the chord?”

“Oh, of course.” They moved, and the wrapped cord dropped slightly to rest in the box near exactly how it was on their arms. “Don’t ask me why but I thought that was staying on for a lot longer.”

“Well don’t worry about that. We have a party to get to after all.”

She closed the box and secured the clasp. “Congratulations you two. I’ll be taking my drinks now.” She said fondly.

\----------

The party - held in the city, of course, in a banquet hall with hundreds of guests - was incredible, and two both of them felt like they were walking on air. They managed to stick to their previously decided limits on alcohol consumption, so they could, in sound mind and body, have Loki’s other, more intimate celebration, just the two of them at home.

It was Valkyrie who ended up reminding Loki that Peter needed to go home, even though she was piss drunk. And he got to Peter just in time as he was about to drink something Loki knew would do something a bit not good. Peter texted him barely 10 seconds after he popped back to Earth that it was only barely midnight and a thank you and another congratulation, and a promise that he wouldn’t tell anybody. How Peter could text that fast was truly beyond Loki, but it was sweet.

Loki and the Grandmaster were giggling like schoolchildren the whole way through the building and into their place and finally slowed to a stop as Loki sat them down on their bed.

“So… what was it you wanted to do?” The Grandmaster swiped a stray hair back behind Loki’s ear. In all the dancing and partying his hair had lost some of its perfection. It was still beautiful, the Grandmaster thought, just ruffled.

“These markings,” Loki dropped his Aesir glamor and ran a finger over one of the lines on his forehead, “aren’t natural like most think.” He removed his cloak and dropped it to the floor, then unclipped his vambraces and tugged at the fastenings on his chest piece then set them next to his cloak, to show more of his skin. “We aren’t born with them. It is a Jotunar rite of passage for these to be carved into you. Being accepted into your family, reaching sexual maturity, childbirth, weddings, and first kill are some of the occasions, any one of them can be first, but you’re not considered grown until you’re scarred. Consider it… extreme tattooing.”

“Loki, I don’t think-”

He pulled a little pot out from his pocket dimension and a few brushes. “No, no, no. Don’t worry, I’m not doing that, to you, or to me for that matter. I have mine and I’m quite satisfied, but, I thought…”

The Grandmaster smiled. “Oh, yeah, no, of course. I’d love to. Just paint then?”

“It’s a semi-permanent dye. It’ll dry quickly and stay for a couple weeks so you don’t stain your clothes or the bed or anything. Is that okay?”

“Perfect.”

The Grandmaster stripped down to his skivvies in a pinch and sat cross legged in front of Loki as he dipped the brush into the dye.

“Oh!” The Grandmaster jumped when Loki pressed his brush to his chest. “Cold.”

“Sorry.” Loki smiled.

He didn’t paint the same, or even too similar a design to his own really, or to the markings of a frost giant, but more inspired by the Grandmaster himself - straight lines and techno. Loki would’ve felt it was in bad taste to do actual Jotunar markings since he wasn’t, you know, a Jotun.

Loki’s scars he didn’t earn in the most traditional sense, having been raised away from his people, but he took a small trip to Jotunheim, or what was left of it, in the name of culture and knowledge. There, he found he had two brothers he never knew about and met his mother. Not that she was in any way his actual mother. That title was reserved for Frigga. She didn’t abandon him to die because he was a runt. It was awkward, but they swallowed their abundance of pride, the lot of them, and Loki explained that he came mostly to get some answers to his plethora of questions. One thing led to another and while they weren’t the greatest of people he’d ever met - honestly though he did truly get along with anyone - but they were actually happy to scar him, if only to make him seem less of an embarrassment to the race when he was out in his blue skin.

It was like hell. They used red hot iron, sharpened to a point, to carve out his patterns, inspired by his family here - he was the rightful king after all, so it made sense to honor that even if he would never take the role. There were subtle nuances in the curves to Jotun letters which, to an experienced reader, hinted at his trials and victories.

He screamed and screamed. The first few lines he could take, but the slow, torturous deliberance was nearly unbearable, but he would not be held down. To need to be restrained was considered weak and scorned at. If one couldn’t take the pain of scarring, then one had no right to call themselves a warrior. What felt like days later, Loki slumped down onto himself, panting, exhausted, and those that had the honor of watching bellowed a victory chant. It was a feat to be scarred and Loki survived. He only realized afterwards that the iron was heated so that he didn’t bleed to death, as it instantly cauterized the wounds.

He remembered lying on his bed of ice and furs, welcomed into the palace with his siblings, and barely able to move for days. Every inch of his skin was screaming, and it was all he could do to sit up and eat. But soon he healed, and he thanked them for taking him in and letting him partake in the sacred ritual.

“You are now a man. You may take your place as warrior, wizard, god, as yourself, and be proud of your heritage. You are welcome any time.” Helbindi, the reigning king, his brother, told him.

That was a while ago now, and in secret. Maybe it wasn’t the best thing to do with the Grandmaster, but he thought that tweaking it so that he was a part of his culture without the pain, was at least a nice gesture, and he was getting better at those.

“That feels nice,” the Grandmaster mumbled. He laid now on his stomach, his front dry, with his head resting on his arms around a pillow.

Loki planted a few kisses between his shoulder blades in response. He chose this dye for its color, secondary to noting that it was probably best to not use makeup or paint, because it matched the Grandmaster’s lip swipe. It wasn’t glittery in the slightest, but the same bright blue. He pulled the brush down along a contour in the muscles on the Grandmaster’s back and Loki felt a little shiver, his palm pressed against the small of his back to steady himself. He was sitting on the backs of the Grandmaster’s thighs, which he didn’t think would be very comfortable considering he weighed more than twice as much as the Grandmaster - dense bones, literally - but he assured him it was fine and hadn’t complained yet about any limbs falling asleep.

“Does it really not bother you that I’ll live forever?” The Grandmaster said suddenly during a stretch of silence.

Loki blinked in surprise and stuttered the brush stroke the tiniest bit, just over his hip. “Of course it does.” He shook his head. “I think about it all the time, but in every pair, one must die first, and when I die, that’ll be the end of it.” He started painting again. “I’m not the first person you’ve loved, and I know I won’t be the last. At least I better not be. What matters to me is that we’re together now, and that you love me now. I accept that after I am gone, you will move on and eventually find someone new, and in a small sense I look forward to it, because your happiness is important to me.”

The Grandmaster didn’t know what to expect as a response, but it certainly wasn’t something like that. It took him aback for a moment.

Loki shifted his weight and sat back beyond his feet to finish the Grandmaster’s legs.

“You really are something special, d’you know that?”

Loki smiled fondly. “Thank you.”

“You remember the first thing I ever said to you?”

“’Did it hurt? When you fell from heaven, because you must be an angel.’ Yes, I do, because it was the cheesiest line I think I’ve ever gotten.”

“Oh, please, you loved it.”

“I’ll admit I was drawn to your confidence, but it was more jarring than romantic you know. I’d just fallen from the sky onto a strange planet full of garbage.”

“Those are Sakaarians and they have feelings.”

“Ha ha.” Loki deadpanned. “Why do you ask?”

“Just reminiscing. And our first kiss?”

“Didn’t take you as the sentimental type. Yes, I remember that too. You’d been puffed up and bent on proving yourself to me for some reason. And you grew on me. And like the show-off you are you tried to buy my attention, which worked a little, and then you showed me your magic.”

The Grandmaster hummed happily. He loved listening to Loki speak.

“It completely changed the way I thought about magic - the power, the beauty, the life. What was it, two or three days after that?”

“Three I think.”

“On the balcony in your tower suite, stars lit up the sky, a crowd cheering below, celebrating the match winners.”

“I brought you a glass of wine and a square of chocolate, because you told me how rare it was on Asgard.”

“We spoke for so long about this and that - life, the universe, everything - and let’s be honest, we were both a little tipsy.”

“Just a little.” He smirked.

“And we sat on the pillows, looking at the sky, and you reached over and put your hand on my hand, you old romantic, and you slid closer,” Loki sealed the lid of the dye and put it and the brushes back into his pocket dimension, then slid his hands up the Grandmaster’s legs, “and leant over me,” he turned the Grandmaster over and pressed his hands down on their side of his head, “and then,” Loki kissed the Grandmaster, exactly the way he first did to him - slow, almost testing the waters, and then all at once.

The Grandmaster’s face crinkled into a smile against Loki’s lips. For all his edges, anger, and bad attitude, Loki was an incredibly soft kisser. He traced his tongue along the inner edge of his bottom lip and Loki let him in. There was a faint twinge of alcohol still present, and something else he couldn’t quite place, but it was sweet.

In the briefest and smallest of separations, their lips pulled apart for a breath and the Grandmaster muttered, a smirk in his voice. “Wasn’t it a bit more like this though?” He hooked his ankle around Loki’s as a pivot and flipped him over onto his back before engulfing him into much deeper, toothier kiss.

It was true, not surprisingly, that the Grandmaster was an eager kisser, and even more eager to press Loki down against the closest surface as soon as a moment arrived to allow it. There was probably something to be said, too, about how much Loki loved it, the Grandmaster’s hands tracing patterns along every inch of available skin. His hands were always so warm, it was electrifying, the fact that he could touch Loki in his blue skin without burning.

Loki adjusted his legs to the Grandmaster get closer, press closer, grind closer. He let out a little gasp when the Grandmaster rolled his hips just so and ran his hands down to tug at the waistband of his underwear.

The Grandmaster chuckled deeply, pulling away and kissing his way down Loki’s throat, trying to tug Loki’s pants off. He finally sat back on his heels and took a second to admire the brushwork on his torso and thighs. Loki had a very steady hand it would seem, and an eye for symmetry. “Do you paint?” He asked, managing to shuck the skin-tight pants off finally. Loki wasn’t wearing any underwear. Unbelievable.

“I dabbled a bit in my youth.” He smirked at the face the Grandmaster made, clearly not expecting that.

“Gods…” The Grandmaster tossed the pants to the floor and caressed one of Loki’s thighs. “I love your legs.” Runners legs, tight and lean, smooth, so long, too. He took his sweet time, kissing, more like pecking really, from Loki’s ankle, all the while running his hands all along the freshly exposed skin, to his hip, purposefully avoiding the hard cock begging for attention.

Loki whined as the Grandmaster teased him, over and over again, drawing his hips up closer to his mouth, but only to kiss and lick at his inner thighs, or below his navel, then moving farther away as his noises got more desperate, just to keep him on edge. It seemed like he was following the Jotun markings on his thighs when he drew back. Loki carded his fingers through the Grandmaster’s hair and tugged, just a bit, an obvious hint at what he wanted.

The Grandmaster just smiled, laving open-mouthed kisses closer and closer to where Loki wanted him. He exhaled over his dripping pussy and chuckled. “Look at you, so wet and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

If he could blush any more, he’d lose sensation ins his extremities. Loki’s cock ached, heavy, and twitching against his stomach and he moaned. “Oh, just come on already, please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” Finally, he hiked Loki up a bit higher, legs draped over his shoulders, so that Loki’s head and shoulders alone were on the bed still, and he licked a wide stripe from his perineum, up his pussy, and all up along the underside of his cock. Loki gasped and brought a hand up to his mouth.

“You’re so pretty all flustered.” He slid his finger with ease inside of him and right back out, accentuating his tease by curling it upwards on the way out.

“Shut up.” Loki grinned against the back of his hand.

He should’ve known, in retrospect, that the Grandmaster was going to torture him like this when he took so much time to start. Loki complained. It was one of his favorite things to do. But secretly he loved it. The agonizingly slow climb to climax, but feeling all sensation stop barely seconds before the point of no return. He felt the Grandmaster in his head, so he knew that he was getting as close as possible on purpose, making Loki whine and beg, all with that smug grin on his face, that is when his mouth wasn’t busy making embarrassingly loud, wet sounds, lapping at his cunt.

Loki felt a warm tendril of magic wrap itself around his midsection and the Grandmaster’s hand moved from holding him up to give him even more hell. With one already slowly, gently fingering him, massaging his G spot, he threw his head back when the other hand wrapped itself around his cock. Much to his delight and displeasure it would seem the Grandmaster was bent on being just as slow, long, languid strokes, keeping Loki firmly wrapped around his little finger, metaphorically and literally. And his desperate moans, whines, and squirming only egged him on.

Loki lost count after six times he got so close his thighs were twitching and spasming. “Please, pleasepleaseplease, En, gods, hnn, come on please let me come, please.” He was babbling, his hands gripping back and forth from the Grandmaster’s thighs, to the sheets, the headboard, somewhere, anywhere to keep him from reaching out and finishing himself. He could’ve sworn he saw stars this time, as once again the Grandmaster pulled away entirely. Loki’s chest heaved, coming down from the edge with a deep sigh.

The Grandmaster just looked down at him and licked his lips. “I know, baby, I know.” He stroked Loki’s thigh. He himself had been rock hard for the longest time, leaking into his underwear, and as much fun as it was making Loki lose all sense of poise and turn into a quivering mess, getting him to beg and plead like that, he was getting desperate to get off too.

He set Loki down against the bed and took off his underwear, flinging them somewhere.

“You’re a right bastard,” he huffed, tossing the Grandmaster a condom from the side table.

“I can do it some more, if you like. This tongue doesn’t get tired.” He smiled and stuck his tongue at Loki, completely lying. He was going to need to ice his tongue tomorrow. Oh, maybe Loki could just stick his fingers… no, that was dumb.

Loki snatched one of the pillows next to him and put it under his hips and another under his head. His neck had gotten a little sore in the near hour the Grandmaster had him hoisted up, resting his weight on his shoulders. “Just, hurry up, come on.” He spread his legs back out and the Grandmaster took his ankles, one in each hand and spread his legs close to as far apart as the Grandmaster could make them. Absolutely no chance of him grinding against his stomach then.

“Ah, fuck!” Loki tossed his head back.

The Grandmaster bottomed out inside Loki in one quick, not gentle motion, then pulled out entirely. It was strange, different. The hot and cold made a very startling sensation for the both of them, but altogether not bad. Actually, the Grandmaster rather liked it, tingly almost. He tested the sensation, and both of their patience, by pushing back in and pulling out as slow as he could handle.

Loki reached out to grab his cock and the Grandmaster quickly swung one of Loki’s legs over his shoulder to swat the hand away. He tsked and shook his finger at Loki. “Bad boy.” He slapped the outside of Loki’s thigh, making Loki yelp, and rubbed over it a few times. Oh, he’d left a little welt. “Behave, sweet thing.”

“Or what?” Loki shot a defiant smile and reached for himself again.

The Grandmaster narrowed his eyes and stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth to hide a smile. He didn’t have a rebuttal, but there was something he could do to occupy Loki’s hands. He slammed his hips forward and started fucking him in earnest, shifting Loki’s entire body far enough forward that his horns started scraping against the headboard.

That did the trick. Loki’s one hand shot up to the headboard to push just hard enough so that his horns weren’t banging against the wood at a tempo to rival some of the shittier techno prestissimo works he’d been subjected to, while his other one grabbed onto what part of the Grandmaster’s leg he could reach and threatened to break skin.

“Oh, gods, oh fuck.” A long moan stuttered by their rhythm drew out of Loki, but a small mercy was that the Grandmaster couldn’t keep going at that speed for long unless he wanted to come, as much as he wanted to be a snot to Loki.

He slowed down and curled his arm around Loki’s thigh to splay his palm flat over his belly and felt himself slide in and out, unable to avoid touching Loki’s cock at least a little, and this attention did not go unnoticed. Loki rolled his hips with each thrust, getting the tiniest bit more friction than nothing at all, with the bonus of more pressure on his G spot which was lovely.

“Look at you, so gorgeous all desperate for me.” His teasing only made Loki redder- bluer. “You want to come?”

“Mhm.” Loki nodded and sucked in his lower lip.

He looked like such a little snack, he wanted to savor this image. Can I take a picture? He asked in Loki’s head, and Loki reached out to hand him his phone from the table.

“Gimme a little wanton.” He said, as if Loki wasn’t already about to be in the dictionary next to the word.

“And that, is my new wallpaper.” He tossed it elsewhere in the bed, “Okay baby.” The Grandmaster then finally, finally relented, deciding Loki has suffered long enough, and wrapped his hand around his cock and matched his strokes with his trusts.

Loki about yelled when that hand rolled under the head of his cock, crucifying that little cluster of nerves and it didn’t take more than another minute or two before he called out “En!” and came in hot heavy strands across his chest, panting like he’d ran a marathon.

The Grandmaster allowed himself a few more thrusts, blissfully enjoying how Loki’s pussy quivered and squeezed with his release, before pulling out. Loki snatched him by the hips unexpectedly, rolled the condom off, and brought his cock to his mouth with barely a warning, Loki legs still twitching, replaced with jello.

The Grandmaster snaked his hand through what he could in the top of Loki’s hair and held his head in place, rolling his cock in and out. He was close. He was close before Loki started putting his nickname to good use, sucking and laving at the Grandmaster’s cock. He might’ve had much more experience than Loki, but he couldn’t help and hope he was as good as Loki. He was something else…

Loki knew, he felt the Grandmaster’s climax, a pooling heat in his groin and he gave a few more strong sucks and licks at his perineum before the Grandmaster moaned and pulled Loki’s head back to come on his face, his pretty, pretty blue face. He grinned open-mouthed, panting, dragging his cock over Loki’s lips, riding out his orgasm.

Loki happily obliged, kissing along the underside of his twitching cock. “You better not have gotten any in my hair.” He chuckled.

A strand of come-y saliva connected the head of En’s cock to Loki’s puffy red lips. Loki smirked and took a finger, dragging it across his cheek, through a line of come, and into his mouth, sucking the digit clean.

“Ohoho, you little devil.” The Grandmaster kissed him, only caring slightly that his face was covered in come, before slumping down in the bed next to him, collapsing like a ton of bricks.

Loki snapped his fingers and any hint of mess on him was gone. It didn’t feel as clean as using an actual rag or a shower, but he’d rather not get up, now, or maybe even ever.

The Grandmaster giggled and covered his face. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Loki raised his arm up and smacked him on the thigh, as close to the same spot as him as he could get and made sure it stung.

He yelped a little, not because it hurt, but because he didn’t see it coming.

They basked for a long time, listening to the breathing slow and letting themselves cool off, and regain some semblance of sensation in their lower halves, before bothering to move. Loki groaned and got out of the bed just long enough to pull on a massive T-shirt, long enough to cover his business, and crawl back into the bed - with his white skin though. Horns and delicate fabrics didn’t usually end well in his experience. He ran his fingers over the spots on the poor headboard ruined by his horns. Oh well. If he gave two shakes of a rat’s ass he could put a little glamor on it, so no one could ever tell, but he didn’t, so he didn’t.

The Grandmaster had gone off to the bathroom to wash his face and take the quickest of whore’s showers to get the sweat feeling off him, and all but hopped back into the bed with Loki, wrapping himself up around him and burying his face into the crook of Loki’s neck. “So, wait, hold on,” He wiggled a little bit to get under the sheet. “If we’re married… does that make me a prince?”

Loki giggled and turned around to look at him. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He nodded enthusiastically.

“Well… yes. You are a Prince of Asgard, and, well, if I ever decide to challenge Helbindi, King of Jotunheim I should think. I probably won’t though.”

“Who’s that?”

“One of my brothers, don’t worry about it.” He pecked him on the nose and turned back around, sandwiching together. From where he laid, Loki could see the little box on the dresser which had their cord in it. He smiled. Married. Oh, wait, he might owe someone a thousand units. Well… only if he told him.

\----------

“Good morning my husband.” The Grandmaster reached over Loki for his phone on the nightstand.

Loki groaned and pulled his eye mask on, the one he kept tucked in his pillow. “If it is even one second before midday I will do something drastic.”

“No such luck I’m afraid.”

He groaned and buried himself under the sheets.

“I do have this though.” The Grandmaster pulled the sheet off Loki with one hand and handed him a cup of coffee with the other.

Loki pulled his eye mask up an inch and stared at it suspiciously for a second before finally sitting up. “I love you.”

“Aw, I love you too.”

“I was talking to the coffee.”

“You wound me.” The Grandmaster held up his phone and Loki didn’t register what he was doing until long after the click sound effect passed. The photo was of one groggy looking Loki with makeup smudged to fuck, hot pink eye mask with cartoon eyelashes pushed up on his forehead, hair astray, rumpled old shirt on and moments away from death, while the Grandmaster threw up a peace sign with a wild grin.

-me n the ex boyfriend! (image attached)

-is… that loki lmao????????

The Grandmaster took another picture to send to Valkyrie, but this time Loki was well aware of what was about to happen and managed to cover most of himself with an outstretched hand even with the Grandmaster going in for a kiss.

-yes this beautiful frumpy perfect sleepy angel is loki! (image attached)

-im going to use this pic for blackmail later probably also what is all over ur face

-makeup, a little drool, dye, maybe some come, depends which schmutz youre talking about

-we talked about this, boundaries

-right my bad

-anyways congrats again and youre welcome you weirdos :p

“Val says congrats again and you’re welcome and also a colon next to the letter p which I think might a typo.” The Grandmaster showed Loki his phone screen.

“Colon p is a face with its tongue sticking out.” He set the empty mug on the table and gave up on the mask, tossing it into the sea of sheets. “Why did you send her that picture?” He laid right back down. He may not get back to sleep but damn if this bed wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the universe right now.

“I don’t understand.”

“Turn your phone on its side.”

“Oh! Haha, that’s quite clever!”

Loki gazed up at him from sleepy eyes and smiled. “En…”

“Yeah?”

“What’d you do with the dagger?” Loki yawned and stretched out so far, he would’ve sworn he grew three inches if he didn’t know any better.

“Oh, it’s here.” With a flick of his wrist, it popped out of his pocket dimension and into his hand. “Safe and sound.”

“I like the sound of that.”

Loki’s phone chimed and saw it was from Peter.

-hey mr loki I didn’t tell anyone I swear but some really big guy- said his names heimdall- told me to tell you you owe him some money?

Loki flipped off the air in front of him in some vain effort to slight Heimdall if just for the dramatics of it.

-oh and thanks for the alien cat, aunt may and I love her! (image attached)

“We got Peter a six-legged brown and black cat with purple eyes?”

The Grandmaster just shrugged and attacked Loki with kissed all over his puffy face, dagger safely put away.


End file.
